USUK Drabble Calendar: October 2014
by 365daysofUSUK
Summary: A drabble a day for more USUK! The file for the USUK Drabble Calendar, the month of October in the year of 2014.
1. October 1st

**AUTHOR: Anonymous**

**1st of October, 2014**

Arthur irritably eyed the rather huge menu board of coffee flavors and pastries. When has ordering coffee turn into such a complicated task? How was he supposed to know what a venti or grande is? Or how many shots can go in each cup? What's a shot for that matter?

"Having trouble are we?" Francis teased from behind the cash register with amusement in his eyes and curiosity. It's not everyday that Arthur willingly steps into a Starbucks.

"Shut up." Arthur grumbled. "You know I never order this crap. I will never understand yours or Alfred's love for this coffee."

"This coffee has exquisite taste, can you honestly blame us?" Francis smiles. "It seems that Alfred finally convinced you."

"Absolutely not," Arthur ordered the coffee, thankful for his superb memory and ability of simple observation. "this isn't for me."

"Hm, obviously." Francis is very familiar with this particular order, smiling to himself as he prepares the beverage. "For someone who says you do not know Alfred very well, you certainly know his favorite drink."

"Everyone knows his obsession, it's no mystery."

"Oh, no doubt. But do you think everyone knows his favorite drink in October?" Francis carefully capped the cup and turned to face Arthur, smiling in victory at the Englishman's blush.

"That's-that's completely irrelevant." He swiped the cup, dropping extra change on the counter and hurriedly exited the cafe.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Matt." Alfred greeted his brother at the check out counter, hefting his basket of groceries onto the conveyor belt. He tried to act casual as he unloaded his goods.<p>

"Shouldn't you be studying for your test tomorrow?" His brother asked, surprised with his brother's random visit since Alfred would normally remain indoors the day before his exams.

"I needed a break." Alfred had thought of a million excuses before and hoped this was good enough that it did not cause any suspicion.

Matt could see past his excuse but didn't push him for answers. He passed the foods on the scanner, all junk food, nothing abnormal there. Except-

"Al…this is tea."

"Yea, so?"

"So? Al, you hate tea."

Alfred slapped a few dollars on the counter and swiped the box of tea from his brother. "Yea, well! I decided to try something new! Y'know, replace  
>coffee for tea since it's unhealthy!"<p>

Replace coffee...for tea? Realization hit him then…

"This wouldn't happen to be for your roommate would it?" Matt asked, smiling slowly as he finally figured it out.

"N-no! What gave you that idea, geez!" Alfred denied immediately, though his pink cheeks say otherwise. "Anyway, gotta jet! Wish me luck on my exam!"


	2. October 2nd

**ARTIST: owyn (Art is availale on the **_**365daysofusuk**_** tumblr)**

**AUTHOR: qichi**

**2nd of October, 2014**

The city only looks as it claims to in the middle of the night. The advertisements the tourism bureaus pump endlessly into the feed of the screen mounted to his forearm, arriving with a faint jolt of vibration, the natural evolution of the text message, all blare high-urban neon, endless points of multicolored light ringing out progress, progress, progress. Now, at grey afternoon, the streets crowded with smog and the general public, it feels like a facsimile, a model photographed in bad light.

He hates to come here when he can avoid it. The sidewalk suffocates him from all sides, people jostling his shoulder at nearly every turn and his suburb-boy paranoia makes him check his pockets over and over. If he loses what he's carrying…

A hovercab zips much-too-close overhead, skidding above the pedestrian stream until it finds a platform at which to let its occupants disembark. Arthur isn't above the thoughts you're _supposed _to have, seeing a hovercab: wish I was in it, wish I could ride through the city, wish I could afford it, wish I was one of them.

At least he's smart enough to damn himself for the thoughts: too easy, too simple to aspire to affording public transportation. It just means no one spends enough time asking themselves why they can't _all _afford it. Why it isn't a given.

Which is why he's here, of course, pockets stuffed with infected memory cards.

Finally Arthur slips out of the river of the sidewalk, down an unlit alley, cast with shadow from the skyscraper-apartments to either side. He maneuvers past shattered glass sprinkling the concrete and slips between buildings, down a crevice intentionally built so small no one would give it a second thought. A third of the way through there's a steep sudden staircase. Arthur descends; the door now in front has no knob or handle but slides, seamless, into the ground as soon as he nears it.

_Thanks_, he thinks. The computer in his arm reads the thought-pattern and relays it miles away in a nanosecond so that less than a heartbeat later Arthur's ears ring with the clear staticless response: "No prob, Arthur. So you're in?"

It's not lit here. His eyes shift to nightvision; a _click-whirr _of change and everything's visible, though green-tinted. _I'm in. It's dark. The floor's metallic. My steps are loud. _

"Shit, okay. How dark? Would I be able to see?"

Arthur imagines Alfred adjusting his glasses. He would smile at the memory if he had the time to waste on sentiment. _No._

A moment's pause, during which Arthur stays absolutely still.

"Okaaaay… I pulled up the security report and there's no guards posted down there. Not even robo-patrols, so no one's gonna see or hear you."

_Cameras still offline?_

Alfred tsks. "Who do you think I am? Move out, Art."

Immediately he's hurrying forward, exactly aware where he is and where he needs to be, though his arm nonetheless projects a map for him. He's a blinking green dot moving through sharp right angles and straight hallways, tracing the same path in reality and simulation. Each time he reaches a steel plate covering hardware he tears it straight off its screws and gets on his knees, working at a feverish pace to click the memory cards into the exposed computers.

He's flooding the systems. Perhaps one plate covers the part of the urban infrastructure that governs water allotment to the poor tenements, perhaps another determines how much electricity goes to a district populated mainly by immigrants. The computers measure out the lives of the scattered neglected underclass. And all that budgeting to fund the excesses of downtown: the neon signs, the sodium glow, all that glittering greed and corruption.

They're not destroying anything. They're fixing it. They, he and Alfred, are shutting down the evil that siphons livelihood only to those who can afford it. The memory cards are revolution.

As soon as everything's in place Arthur slips back into the city shuffle, trudging his way block by block until he reaches the train station sitting waiting, its rust-brown tracks reaching into the horizon. It's late. The city burns on behind him.

Arthur's so tired, running on empty by the time he gets back home. Their apartment is four station stops away, getting closer by the day to the outward growth of the city. For now, though, it stands apart, a distant multicolor glowing skyline seen from their windows.

He catches Alfred staring out at it with that sunshine smile until Arthur clears his throat and makes his presence known.

"Arthur!"

_I'm home._

He catches sight of himself in the reflection off Alfred's glasses, eyes burning brilliant electric green.

"Sheesh, you look so ragged, c'mere and let me plug you in…" Alfred's voice, the voice of the man who programmed him, swirls around him, a faraway comforting rumble, as Alfred opens ports and connects wire after wire, weaving Arthur into the power lines of the apartment. All his insides begin to thrum, charging. "It's gonna make the news. They can't cover something like this up! People are gonna know. People will _know_!"

_I'm glad you're happy._

"We finally did something… I couldn't have done it without you…" Alfred's lips slant against his, for a second, for a heartbeat. "Arthur."

_I'm glad._


	3. October 3rd

**AUTHOR: towerofart**

**3rd of October, 2014 - A Last Retreat atelm's Deep**

"_Arthur!_" One of the soldiers of Helm's Deep yelled, slashing at an orc before retreating back to a small group of his fellow men with silver chainmail covering their heads. He ran toward the one farthest to the left, who had just fallen to the ground.

"We can't stand here forever Alfred; the other soldiers are already starting to fall back!" Even shouting, Alfred could barely hear his brother Matthew over the din.

"Give me one minute!"

"I'll try!" Matthew said before deflecting a blow and moving to cover his brother and the body behind him. The man next to him, Francis, moved to cover Matthew's right flank.

Alfred sank to his knees and grabbed Arthur's limp hand in his free one. "Arthur! You have to stay with me! We'll get you to the Glittering Caves where someone can heal you. I promise!"

Arthur wheezed and coughed. "Leave me... I'll...I'll only slow you down...You have to get back to the others..."

Alfred choked back a sob. "No. I'm taking you wi—"

"Alfred!" Francis warned. Alfred swung around, blocking a black blade just in time before it sliced off his arm.

Matthew quickly slew the orc before another one came at them. "We can't keep this up anymore! We have to fall back!"

"Leave!" Arthur groaned, blood seeping from his side through the ill fitted chainmail.

Alfred wrapped his arms around Arthur's and pulled him onto his back. "Not without you I ain't!"

Matthew was the first to start running back along the rough ground toward the Deep's main stronghold. From the main fortress of Hornburg they would await orders from the commanders, but it was a long run before they would be even remotely safe under its defences.

Alfred was next to run, Arthur's body a dead weight on his back. Francis quickly followed behind, covering their rear. The rain had made the ground slippery with mud and bodies, but the three soldiers ran without stopping toward the inner walls.

A quiet voice came from just above Alfred's ear. "Al...Alfred—"

"Shhh. Don't talk. We're almost there. Just a bit farther." He opened his mouth to speak again when a familiar cry came from behind him. Ahead, Matthew turned; a horrid look on his face.

"Francis!" Matthew started to run back but his brother held out a hand and stopped him.

"We can't bother Matthew! The orcs are almost upon us. I'm sorry." He shifted Arthur on his back and started to run again, but it was only several paces before an arrow lodged in the back of his calf. Alfred stumbled, almost dropping his burden, but running on.

He couldn't see Matthew anymore in the rain and in the chaos.

Arthur spoke up again, just barely audible above the din. "Alfred... In case... I-if we don't make it..." Alfred didn't bother to stop him this time, so he kept going. "If this is it, then I'd like to say... I lov—"

A black blade came down on Alfred's shoulder and Arthur's arm. The two crashed down into the mud in a bloody heap, Arthur falling first. Alfred was over him as if he could give the other man some protection from the incoming army that ran in through the hole in the Deeping Wall.

"Arthur?" Alfred feebly asked.

No response.

"Arthur?" he tried again, tears mixing in the rain. He pushed back the other's chainmail hood with shaking fingers and took Arthur's hand.

A heavy foot came down on Alfred's lower back and he gritted his teeth. "Come on Arthur..."

Another body—whether orc or human he didn't know—fell across their legs, trapping them under its weight. "...A-Arthur?"

After that he couldn't risk the energy to speak again.

As the two soldiers among many lay in the mud, Alfred turned his head just enough to see an edge of the sky above amid the carnage in the wet mud.

_Look Arthur,_ he thought, smiling. _The sun's coming out..._


	4. October 4th

**AUTHOR: Bosbie**

**4th of October, 2014**

You always make sure to wear long sleeves.

"It's hot," he complains beside you as you walk under the shadows of the evergreens, "And it's, like, a hundred degrees. And I didn't even bring any sunscreen. I'm going to burn, Arthur."

_You're annoying,_ you want to say, _this was your idea anyway. Who even goes camping in a middle of a heat wave anyway. This is why no one else came, not even your brother. I wouldn't've came either if you hadn't forced me to. Idiot._

But you don't say a word. Talking has become quite hard for you to do lately.

("It'll take your mind off of…you know," was his explanation for this random trip into the wilderness, and you didn't have the heart to tell him that nothing could ever make you forget.)

"Aren't you hot?" he asks, sitting across from you in his sleeping bag, the small LED lantern (not fire, never fire) he brought dimly illuminating the tent he had set up ("Thanks for the help, Art," he had said sarcastically as he fumbled with the tent poles. You had been watching him from under a large tree, your hands tucked inside your jacket pockets.). The sky is dark, and you decide that you like how brighter the stars seem to be here than when you are in the city.

_I'm melting._ You shake your head.

"…Hey. You can take your jacket off, y'know," he says after a moment of silence. His voice is soft and gentle. You admire the way the lantern light accentuates his high cheekbones, his long eyelashes. He's beautiful. "C'mon, Arthur. No one else is here. It's just you and me."

You shake your head.

He rests his hand on your shoulder. You didn't even notice how much you're trembling. "It's okay," he says, pulling you into a hug. "Sorry. For pushing you. You don't need to do anything you don't want to do." Even though it's so humid out and you're both sweaty and smell of toilet, you can't help but melt into the warmth of his skin.

"Can you believe it?" he says as he hauls the camping supplies into the back of his pick-up truck. "The day we leave the weather finally cools down to an actually bearable temperature. Thanks, Mother Nature. Glad to see how much you care."

He turns to face you, ready to say something, but his mouth closes with a click because your jacket is tied around your waist. Your paleness contrasts sharply with the large burn marks that cover most of your visible skin.

You always make sure to wear long sleeves.

"It's hot out, isn't it, Alfred?" you say, waiting for a reaction.

His eyes widen and his lips tremble. Tears start to form at the corner of his eyes, but that could just be your imagination.

You don't really smile much anymore. You give it a try.


	5. October 5th

**AUTHOR: purplenerd777**

**5th of October, 2014**

"You okay?" He bit his lips, eyes misting slightly.

"Peachy." I grunted as he tightened the pale white bandage around my arm.

"'M sorry," He tied the bandage in a knot, and I felt the pressure as the bandage attempted to stop the bleeding.

I grabbed him by the face, and forced the blue eyes hidden by silver frames to look at me, "It isn't your fault." He tried to look away, I snapped his chin up, "It isn't your fault."

He met my eyes, and we clashed earth against sky. "It isn't my fault." I left my grip soften and stroked his cheek, as a tear fell.

"We've got to get back out there." He nodded, eyeing the bandage once more; I could feel the sticky dampness, as it failed to do its job. "I'll be fine." I stood up, leaning on my right side, using my bow to help me get to my feet, for a spilt second I was taller than him. "We need to go, Al." I offered my right hand, which he refused as he stood up on his own.

He glanced at the bandage one last time, before I tugged my sleeve over it. "You'll be fine." He was reassuring himself.

I nodded, and gave him a peck on the cheek, before I ran away from our safe enclosure, back to the twangs, thunks, and groans of the battle.

I looked around, searching for any high ground I could use to my advantage. I found a spot, near the top of the pale grey-green stone ruins, that our tired reinforcements had claimed. Sprinting, ducking and killing as I went, I made it to those wearing The Emblem, glad to see me seemingly well, after my disappearance. Lichen, and blood hindered my climb, but I made it behind a wall turned to rubble.

My aim wouldn't be fantastic as I had to rely heavily on my weak arm, but I wasn't planning on staying conscious much longer.

Spying an area where the Empire was the thickest, I drew an arrow, breathed deeply and notched it, muttering a small curse; I let loose the arrow, and breathed a small sigh of release, when I saw an imperial foot soldier, become distracted enough, for one of the rebellion, to slay him. The grateful soldier made a sign of thanks, whether to me specifically or the gods in general I could not tell.

I managed to let lose a few more arrows before the lack of blood was overwhelming. I felt myself lower, as I heard the call for retreat.

"Grab Britannia!" I heard Commander Liz shout, and then arms heaved me onto someone's shoulder.

"Let's go 'Brows, I don't need Jones knocking me unconscious… Again." It was Gilbert; I could tell that much before I finally let the undercurrent of my unconscious bring me under.


	6. October 6th

**ARTIST: theconfusedartist (Art is available on the _365daysofusuk_ tumblr)**

**AUTHOR: Anonymous**

**6th of October, 2014 - The End**

'And they fell in love. The End.'

"Booooring!"

Arthur looked unimpressed with Alfred's opinion of the movie. "How is that boring? Besides, you didn't have to watch it with me. You chose to."

"Yeah, because my only other option was sitting on my front poarch in the rain!"

"Well it isn't _my_ fault you forgot your keys!" Arthur sucked in a breath, trying to calm himself before they argued. It wasn't often he got to spend time with Alfred these days, what with their conflicting school schedules and all, despite being neighbors. "You never answered my question; how is it boring?"

"Because!" Alfred exclaimed, willing to switch from one topic to another easily. Anything to keep either of them from having to act on the fact they were nearly snuggled on Arthur's family's couch. He was too comfortable to move just yet. "It's always like that in those movies. They fall in love, can't be together, magically manage to overcome it all and boom! It all works out and they're married and poppin' out babies. It's not realistic."

"Crude," Arthur muttered under his breath, shaking his head as he made himself a bit more comfortable. Alfred's weight against his shoulder was nice, but it was difficult to stay comfortable when they were both trying to obviously not to act like they realized what they were doing. "But that's the point. It never actually happens like that, so-"

"So you have to watch a movie for your happy ending? I get it, but I'd rather make my own happy ending. Y'know? I mean, a movie is nice but I can't live in a movie all the time. Movies don't cuddle."

When Arthur was silent for too long Alfred worried that maybe he shouldn't have mentioned cuddling. After all, that seemed to be the unspoken rule. They could do this, lean on each other under the crocheted throw, just so long as neither one mentioned it. He was more than a little upset to have spoiled that, leaning forward and reaching for his hot chocolate to cover up his dropping mood due to his blunder.

"Fine. Movies _don't_ cuddle," Arthur said, still clearly thinking over his next words. "But you're doing a piss poor job at it as well, so I don't know what you expect me to do."

Alfred was really, really glad he hadn't taken a drink just yet, the mug pressed to his lips, because he was positive he could've done a convincing spit-take just then. "I- What?"

Arthur gestured to the two of them with false confidence. "You heard me. Movies don't cuddle, but clearly _you_ don't know how to either, so I've got limited options."

When Matthew stopped by and let himself into Arthur's house an hour later to tell Alfred he was home and that he could get inside he had to pause. Finally. Those two were such morons, it was nice to know they could at least be moronic together now. Smiling to himself, he turned around and left with the sight of Alfred and Arthur wrapped in each other's arms, dozed off and cuddled up together, behind him.

And they'd fallen in love.

The End.


	7. October 7th

**AUTHOR: d****oitsu-the-shining-doitsu**

**7th of October, 2014**

Arthur was staying with Alfred for the time being, his flight was in a week to London, England. His heart said he didn't want to go, but he had to. Sighing, Arthur started to clean up the apartment. Throwing out some trash and putting away dishes. After finishing, Arthur went into Alfred's room and picked around at his desk to see if he could find anything interesting. He always did this when he was bored and Alfred knew it. A pink envelope stuck out like a sore thumb under some papers.

* * *

><p>It all started when Alfred had hit puberty. And everyone went after him like a child would to a brand new toy. All throughout junior high, freshmen year, and over that summer Arthur had his best friend all to himself. Alfred was a kind loving person and his best friend. And it hurt to suddenly just break off like their friendship meant nothing.<p>

And was then, Arthur realized he was in love. It was the middle of sophomore year and Alfred was off playing football with his new crew of people and it looked as if Alfred had tossed Arthur out like a old toy. It was until he had no Alfred, Arthur knew he was in love. And he hated it. Whenever he thought he had moved on, or decided he was better off without that good looking jerk, Alfred would send Arthur a text asking how was his day or smile at him in the halls making Arthur fall back in love. Or more like, realize he never stopped loving the big dork. It was too much for Arthur, and with that, he decided to discover himself. That's what high school was all about.

It wasn't until very early junior year, it hit Alfred hard that he hadn't spent his summer with Arthur. Studied at all last year with Arthur. Watched the new Doctor Who with Arthur. _Hell even spend almost any time with Arthur._ Slowly something inside Alfred got him thinking and feeling. He really missed Arthur, and he really didn't care about anyone paying attention to him anymore. That's how it started, suddenly the kid who was invisible mattered, and Alfred got caught up in attention and pushed away what _really _mattered. Arthur.

He didn't even know if he should call Arthur his best friend anymore. The only time he sees him is in the hall, or in a few classes. Hell, Alfred took classes he didn't even give a shit about this year. He should be filling his schedule up with things that would benefit him. Not dumb stuff like History of Films or three P.E. classes. That's what everyone else wanted to take because they didn't want to do work, well it was about time Alfred did some work.

Starting which was to find Arthur and apologize.

It was a surprise, but Arthur cried when Alfred apologized. And Alfred would admit, he teared up too. The two quickly made up, gave many hugs and Alfred complimented on the way Arthur dyed his hair tips red and how Arthur looked awesome with his new look.

Arthur just replied with a 'git' and hid his face in a hug.

Arthur went to Alfred to the counselors, and they tried to get as many classes together as they could. Most of Arthur's were AP in literature and Histories following regular classes containing maybe a math class with a science. Alfred decided to take the other way and go with the S.T.E.M. and take mostly math and sciences in AP and the same histories as Arthur, but stayed with the regular English high school level class.

Everyone was confused on why Alfred didn't try out for football or showed up to any of his original classes. Or how he never showed at their parties.

He was spending his time studying, and hanging out with Arthur and his friends at their garage bands or watching Doctor Who. They did everything together, it seemed like they were inseparable.

Arthur even convinced Alfred to come with him whenever he got a new piercing, and hell even one time Al did as well. But nothing extreme, just his ears.

And all throughout this, Arthur realized more and more that Alfred and him would only be friends. And it hurt.

A lot.

Too much to stay close, because once they graduated and after their party with all their friends, Arthur finally decided and immediately told Alfred, "I'm moving to the UK, Alfred. For college. I want you to know that."

It was bullshit, Arthur knew his GPA and STAT scores were amazing enough to get him into Harvard or Yale or anywhere, but so were Alfred's. He knew Alfred would follow him. He just wanted away, far away. To move on.

Alfred would never love him to way Arthur wanted him too. And it hurt. He had to move on.

* * *

><p>Curious, Arthur grabbed the pink paper and flipped it to the front where 'Arthur Kirkland' was written on the front of it. Raising an eyebrow Arthur walked over and sat on Alfred's bed. He knew Alfred was going to give it to him soon, since he was leaving, but why not sooner than later? His gut was screaming at him to open it.<p>

Taking his painted nail, he ripped open the envelope. It was a homemade card, the front was a total cartoon drawing of him. Smiling Arthur flipped it open, and a 100 bill fell out. Rolling his eyes, Arthur smiled. Even though in the UK 100 USD was less than 100$, but it was nice to have a few extra bucks, or quid in his case.

Arthur started to read the letter, and it wasn't very long before Arthur dropped the letter wide eyed and blushing. Alfred can't do this, not now. It doesn't seem real, no way in the world..

Arthur heard the front door open. Getting up, he left the letter where it was to go face Alfred, and do what he should've a long time ago.

"Hey Arthur, how was your-" Alfred was stopped in mid-sentence by a kiss on his cheek. When Arthur pulled away all Alfred could do was hold his mouth open. Closing it, Alfred felt his cheeks flush.

"Do I return the greeting?" He was trying make humor out of the situation. And Arthur laughed.

"I found your letter."

Alfred went red and immediately his hands covered his face. "Oh no. You weren't suppose to get that until you boarded the flight."

Arthur took Alfred's hands and held them tight. "And I think you owe me 500$."

"What! Why?" Alfred felt Arthur's hands in his and squeezed them. His hands were sweaty and shaking. His face was really red as well.

"I'm not flying out to the UK, I'm not showing for my plane." Arthur continued. "I think I'm going to stay."

"You're not kidding right." Alfred felt his already racing heart beat faster and his smile grew. Intense happiness was washed over Alfred and his chest was constricting tightly. He started to realize, Arthur was staying. His eyes started to water. He could see Arthur's were too.

"No." Arthur shook his head. Alfred smiled.

"Can I kiss you, or is that also a no?" Alfred bit his lip after he asked, voice filled with hope.

Arthur never replied, just leaned forward capturing Alfred's lips. The kiss was sweet and innocent. And they would both agree, it was also a kiss long over due.

* * *

><p><em>Arthur,<em>

_I don't know if you are reading this on the plane, or in the UK but I couldn't tell you what I have to in person, how stupid huh?_

_Arthur. It's horribly stupid for me just to realize this, but as soon as you told me you were leaving out of the country, that night my mind wouldn't rest. I didn't want you to leave and I still don't, but I'm your best friend. I will support you no matter what._

_But what I'm trying to say is, that night. I realized, I'm in love with you Arthur Kirkland._

_You make my heart race._

_Chest tight, hands sweat._

_And whenever I think about you, I can't help but be ridiculously happy._

_I want to scream it to the world that I love you, Arthur. But I'm too afraid that'd scare you away for good. I don't know why you're leaving, but I hope this doesn't ruin what we got from these years spent together. I just needed you to know that I love you._

_Well, as soon as I can afford it, I'll come visit! (if you'll let me that is)_

_Use the 100$ to take yourself out to the biggest, fanciest restaurant._

_I love you, Arthur. It's impossible to explain how much._

_Stay in touch,_

_Alfred F. Jones_


	8. October 8th

**AUTHOR: Saiteal**

**8th of October, 2014**

**Dedicated to Car, for her inspiration.**

An anxious and excited buzz swept the crowd just moments before the start the marathon. Runners stretched and chatted and drank small, measured amounts of water so as to not weigh them down or run out of water later on. Farther down the course argued an Englishman, a Frenchman, a German, and a Spaniard.

"But what if someone actually kisses me?" asked a flustered and irritated Arthur holding a rainbow sign saying "Kiss me, I'm English!".

"You stand there and take it. Maybe even kiss back?" Francis suggested, wiggling his eyebrows.

"There is absolutely no way I would kiss ba—"

"But listen Eyebrows, it's a marathon. This is the type of event that assembles well-toned guys. One of them is bound to suit your taste."

Arthur just 'hmph-ed' and was cut off by the overly-enthusiastic announcer who blared the starting horn and the runners came hurtling forward. In a sea of soon-to-be-sweaty heads, a blond strand of hair was jumping up and down. The blond, Alfred, had his lips parted with a tongue peeking out, arms swinging back and forth and feet lightly tapping the ground. Every marathon start was like this, people squeezed together like penguins, but then a kilometer or two in, people started getting filtered, the best coming forward and the slower staying behind. Alfred hoped to land himself in the faster group — as did every other runner. Squinting his eyes and squeezing his hands tighter, he held his head high as he picked up his pace.

Turning a corner, Alfred narrowed his eyes in annoyance at the hill coming up. San Francisco was always such a hard place to run. Hills at every corner and the air was always so chilly. But what truly kept him in the city was the acceptance of gays. It made him feel more accepted seeing the rainbow flags hanging precariously on windows during his track to work.

Kicking his knees up not unlike a mountain climber would, he braced himself for the seemly never ending uphill climb. Sweat was starting to bead on his forehead and he cursed himself for not training harder.

21 kilometers was a long time to be flailing his limbs about in an effort to get to the finish line faster, so he liked to entertain himself by people-watching. One of his favorite things to do while people watching was reading the signs that people were holding. The enthusiasm of the onlookers was a precious thing to experience and so were the crazy signs they carried with them.

Turning the corner into Embarcadero, to his pleasant surprise, he spotted his white haired drinking buddy… along with a very cute blond… who was quite noticeably holding onto a showy, color-clashing sign that was ordering him to…kiss him, because he was apparently English. Funny, wasn't it the Irish who normally said that?

But traditions didn't matter once he actually saw the Briton. His eyes trailed up the other's figure, finding khaki pants which didn't quite fit in with the rest of the short shorts. Eyes advancing upwards, Alfred saw a white button up shirt that most definitely didn't belong in a marathon. Glasses-covered eyes slithered further north and noticed a pale face, puckered pink lips and green, green eyes.

Looking back on it, Alfred didn't really have time to do an internal debate on whether to kiss the guy or not. Given that they were in _San Francisco _and the sign was _rainbow, _there wasn't much debate to do.

With a straight face, he turned his sprint into a light jog and approached the white shirted man very delicately, as if the other would try to flee.

Their eyes locked for less than a split second before the self-proclaimed Englishman averted his eyes with rosy cheeks and tightened his hold on his sign. But that didn't stop Alfred from standing in front of him, mumbling some incoherent form of "Okay, but only 'cause you asked so nicely" and kissing him.

Alfred didn't waste time chaste kissing him, after all the guy had asked for it. No, Alfred went in for the kill and dipped him causing the Briton to flap his arms until they came to nestle themselves in the gentle dip of Alfred's collarbone. Their bodies were pressed together and Alfred wasn't the only one enjoying the feel of a very attractive stranger against him. The American's hands holding his neck slowly moved up to weave his fingers in the soft blond hair.

Alfred finished the kiss with a pop and moved to straighten himself. He then cleared his throat and dusted himself off — acting as if he was in the middle of a business conference. With a very even voice, he said " I'm Alfred, and you're a good kisser." He then proceeded to turn around and fall into a brisk jog, as if he didn't had just French kissed a stranger.

Gilbert had filmed the kiss, too bad it didn't fit into Vine's six second time slot. Oh well, he'd just post it on YouTube later.

Half a marathon later, a certain Arthur was leaning against a street light with his ears perked for the speakers to announce the arrival of a certain Alfred. When the runner finally arrived, the Briton could feel this face broiling —and he didn't even run!— while he and Alfred exchanged phone numbers by the finish line.


	9. October 9th

**AUTHOR: faesphinx**

**9th of October, 2014 - Cold**

A smile pulled at the tight skin of Alfred's face as he guided the old '95 sedan around the strange, twisting, and pot-hole filled roads of the little New England town. Arthur sat beside him, humming along to the cheesy, sometimes static-y Christmas songs on the radio. The heat blasted them, smelling like the Febreeze-clip he'd stuck onto the vents months ago, making the car much warmer than anything he'd ever heat any of his houses to, making his nose and throat too dry, and his skin burn just a little. It was perfect.

Arthur had raised one heavy eyebrow when he'd first seen the car. The interior ceiling was falling down, enough to muss Alfred's hair when he drove, and it was an ugly shade of metallic gray- pewter, not silver- with the paint chipping off around the roof. It made strange sounds, sometimes, the interior light had a habit of staying on no matter what, and the carpet on the floor was worn away in front of the gas pedal from years of heels resting there. But it was good on gas, and dependable, and above all, made Alfred look like just another broke college student, which was good for this part of the country. Plus, he'd bought it from an actual college student who looked like they could use the money.

"Already, your people are putting their lights up," Arthur sighed, although not very bitterly, "It's only barely December."

"It's the holiday spirit!" Alfred laughed, aimlessly driving through the town, watching the way the colored lights made Arthur look like he was standing in front of a stained-glass window. With his tired and pale complexion, he looked like the subject of some tragic, 19th-or-18th century painting. His lips were slack, but not frowning. Alfred wanted to kiss him.

He drove a little more, towards the outskirts of the town, and pulled over on the side of the road, beside some old farmer's field. There was an old church, and a school house a ways away, and a cemetery that hadn't seen a burial since Calvin Coolidge was in office. Arthur looked up, away from the window, about to ask 'what are you doing?' when Alfred leaned over and stole one chaste kiss from him. He grinned as he pulled away, and Arthur offered him a smile.

"You old romantic," he teased, "You could have just said something."

"Yeah, but then you wouldn't have been surprised," Alfred replied, "You're cute when you get little surprises like that. Besides, you looked just a little sleepy, and saying something would have woken you up. I wanted a sleepy kiss."

Arthur merely snorted and punched him in the arm.

"Come. It's such a clear night, I want to see the stars. Let's get the blanket from the back, and you can show me what you know of the constellations, and I'll tell you the stories behind them."

"But we'll freeze!"

"All the more reason to huddle together for warmth, love," Arthur purred, already unfastening his seat belt and unlocking his door, "Or are you dead set against cuddling tonight?"

"Fine, but we get to have a bubble bath and hot chocolate when we get home."

"Alright."

"And a Mel Brooks movie marathon," Alfred added.

"Deal, now get that blanket."

Alfred beamed and unbuckled his seat belt, popping the trunk to grab the thick blanket he always had on hand, a star chart, and a flashlight. Already, Arthur was walking out into the field, looking for a flat place to sit. His breath came out in clouds made silvery in the moonlight. It didn't take much for Alfred's mind to supply him an image of those vivid green eyes glinting in the starlight, of cheeks and nose being bitten red in the cold, of snow settling in messy blond hair. Winter suited Arthur more than it should. Cold and dark did him strange favors, and it made a chill run down Alfred's spine.

Arthur was too warm to be so cold.


	10. October 10th

**AUTHOR: animeXalchemist**

**10th of October, 2014 - Love Letters**

_Dear Mason,_

_I must say that your conditions sound positively monstrous; I'm sure I wouldn't last a day. And yet you still find the time to accommodate me in your life. Your last reply was particularly beautiful, and I would be delighted to go dancing with you when you get out. I'm sure you look immensely dashing in that tweed suit of yours, and I shall dress in my finest dress of emerald silk. We shall be quite the sight!_

_With love,_

_Rose Kirkland_

"Grandma?" a small voice asked, looking at the woman curiously, "What are you doing?"

Rose turned around to face her grandson and smiled. "Can you keep a secret, Arthur?" she asked, turning to face him with an odd twinkle in her eyes. Arthur nodded and she brought her voice down to a conspiratorial whisper. "I have a pen pal," she said excitedly, "A man called Mason Jones. Oh he is such a gentleman," she sighed happily.

"How did you meet him?" Arthur asked, suddenly extremely interested in a man that could make his grandmother smile like that.

"Well…" she hesitated, "He's actually in prison."

Arthur's mouth dropped open, his big green eyes widening. "B-But that means he's a bad man!"

"Come here, sweet," Rose said kindly, picking the boy up and placing him on her knee, "Things are never black and white, as you will come to realise. Mason is a lovely chap and he makes me happy. Ever since your grandfather died I've been so lonely… But Arthur, reading Mason's letters means so much to me, so please don't tell your mother. She'd never approve. Will you promise me that, sweet?"

Arthur nodded and promised, if only because he'd never seen his grandma seem so alive as when she was reading her letter and writing a reply. He asked for more information on Mason, and learnt that he was American and lived in New York.

Over the years he learnt that prison food was disgusting and that Mason would love to try Rose's home-cooking. He found out that Mason loved strolling around Central Park and that he planned to do so again when he got out, and would Rose do the honour of joining him? He seemed smart, witty, funny, and he always made Rose smile.

Rose fell ill when Arthur was sixteen, and when he visited her one day she made him make another promise: please keep writing to Mason. She didn't want her American to know that she was dying; she wanted their story to live on. And Arthur, knowing how much this man meant to her, agreed. He did his best to imitate her hand and the letters continued, all signed off with: '_With love, Rose Kirkland'_.

And so the story continued. He told Mason that his favourite film was _Rebecca_, and Mason told him that his was _It's A Wonderful Life_. Sometimes they'd reminisce about 'the good old days', which required extensive Googling from Arthur because of course he hadn't lived in such days. They built up a little fantasy where they'd dance the night away on a moonlit beach. And as the years rolled by, even though the letters were signed as Rose Kirkland, Arthur was writing his own thoughts, his own likes and dislikes. He looked forward to Mason's letters and had that same dreamy smile that his grandma had as he read them and then replied.

But this man must have been ancient and, now at twenty-three, Arthur knew that he had been a colossal idiot to ever make the promise to continue writing. Because with every word Mason wrote, Arthur knew that he was falling harder and harder. He was falling for a man who must have been at least fifty years older than himself.

_My Dearest Rose,_

_There is a bench in Central Park, situated under a grand arch of trees. It is beautiful at all times of the year. In the Spring the surroundings are blossoming with life, the Summer brings with it gorgeous weather and the joyous laughter of children as they excitedly run around. In the Autumn it becomes a patchwork of color: stunning reds, exquisite oranges, beautiful yellows… and the winter brings with it the promise of new beginnings. My dream is to take you to that bench one day._

_All my love,_

_Mason Jones_

Arthur cried when he read that letter. He cried because Mason could never achieve his dream. He cried because it felt as though he had stolen this wonderful man from his dear grandmother. And he cried as he imagined a small old man in a tweed suit, sat on this bench and waiting for his English rose to sit by his side. He couldn't do this anymore; he needed to tell this man the truth. And he needed to hear it from Arthur's own mouth, which is why he booked a flight to New York.

_Darling Mason,_

_Thank you for your beautiful letter. I have no shame in admitting that it moved me to tears. But I am afraid that I have not been entirely truthful with you, and I intend to correct this. I only hope that you do not come to hate me when I tell you the truth. I have booked a flight for New York and I would very much like to visit you. I have looked up the prison's visiting hours and I shall be there every day until I finally get to see you._

_Sending you all my love,_

_Rose Kirkland_

A couple of days before his flight, Arthur received a letter from Mason.

_My Dearest Rose,_

_It appears as though the time has come for me to admit that I haven't been all that truthful either. I am actually no longer in prison… would you meet me in Central Park when you get here? I have so much to say to you. I'll be wearing a tweed suit and sat on that bench. I'll sit there all day every day until we meet. So please wear that emerald silk you told me about so long ago. I'm sure you'll look divine._

_All my love,_

_Mason Jones_

Arthur didn't know what to make of the letter. What had Mason lied to him about? And when did he get out of prison? All of these thoughts swirled around inside his head, but it didn't stop him from purchasing a long, elegant emerald silk scarf and wearing it around his neck as he walked through Central Park. His heart beat furiously in his chest and he'd done his best to rehearse what he would tell the man, but nothing sounded right. '_Oh hey, I know you were expecting a woman, but I'm actually a guy. Yeah I'm her grandson, and I kind of fell in love with you. Nothing creepy about that'_. He groaned; this could only end in tears.

He carried on walking, surveying every bench he came across, but there was no sign of someone who looked like Mason (or what Arthur imagined him to look like). It wasn't until three hours had passed did he come across a man wearing a tweed suit. He looked around, to see if there was anyone else wearing such a thing, but of course there wasn't. But the problem with this man was his age. He was a young man, with a full head of golden hair. No matter how you looked at it, it was mathematically impossible for this man to be Mason. But due to sheer desperation at this point Arthur pointlessly wandered over on the off chance that this tweed man new _something_ that could point him in the right direction.

The man seemed nervous, constantly looking around himself and jumping a little when Arthur said, "Excuse me sir, but do you know a man called Mason?"

Stunningly blue eyes gazed up at him in surprise, then confusion, but when he zeroed in on the scarf around his neck the man's eyes widened and he gulped. "R-Rose?"

All the air left Arthur at that single utterance, words failing him. He could only nod at the handsome stranger.

"Oh man, I was expecting… I mean, I thought you'd be older… and a woman, but, yanno, that's not a bad thing! I just never thought you'd be so hot—wait! I-I meant cute—no! Ah crap," the man babbled, hands flailing wildly as Arthur progressively turned redder.

"Rose was my grandmother," Arthur supplied, trying to throw the man a lifeline. "She… died quite a few years ago now, but she didn't want Mason to know, because she thought it would break his heart. So I promised to keep writing… She really loved him," he said earnestly.

"Mason was my grandpa," the American said, managing to compose himself somewhat as he stood up from the bench, "And… sounds like a similar story actually. Before he died he told me to keep writing to Rose. Every time he got one of her letters he'd get this love-struck look on his face. I always thought it was kinda silly… until I found myself doing the same." He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "I'm Alfred, by the way."

"Arthur."

"God this is all so… I mean, I kinda feel like I know you already."

Arthur smiled. "Yes I… I know what you mean. And I also found myself with that love-struck look whenever I read your letters," he admitted, flushing a little.

"You did?" Alfred asked, looking immeasurably pleased with this information. "Well… would you like to walk with me?" he asked, holding out his hand shyly.

"I'd love to," Arthur said, taking hold of the proffered hand and feeling a pleasant warmth spread throughout his body, the two of them wearing the same expressions that their grandparents had once worn while reading their words of love.

Rose and Mason's love would always live on, and in the same way, Arthur and Alfred's love was just beginning.


	11. October 11th

**Author: just-a-hetalia-fangirl**

**11th of October, 2014 - Catfish: The TV Show**

"So, Alfred. Tell us about Arthur."

Alfred's eyes lit up instantly, shining almost as brightly as his mega-watt smile.

"Arthur Kirkland is the greatest guy in the _entire world_!" the American babbled excitedly. "He's funny and sweet and insanely smart – it's no wonder he's become so rich and successful this young 'cause he's just so amazing! And he's so freaking hot, too! I mean, I've only seen him in photos, but they're all awesome. And I know we've never spoken on the phone but apparently he's got a full on English accent and I just – "

Alfred ended his sentence in a prepubescent squeal, and did not seem at all embarrassed.

Francis and Elizabeta, on the other hand, shared a wary look between them, both wincing internally.

God, this kid was _deluded_!

If there was one thing the two TV presenters had learnt from making their documentary series '_Catfish_', it was that if someone on the Internet sounded too good to be true, that meant they were probably a lie. Most people understood this, knowing the Internet could be a dangerous place to start a romance. That's why it was Francis and Elizabeta's job on this show to help people find out if their Internet partner was real or just another sneaky 'catfish': someone who lied about their identity online to trick people.

But sadly, Alfred F. Jones was a small-town farm boy, innocent and naïve and far too trusting, so he was totally convinced that his rich, sexy, English online boyfriend was real. He seemed to have no idea that he was obviously being played by some Internet creep.

"So you've never actually spoken to Arthur on the phone?" Francis probed carefully, as Elizabeta zoomed in with her camera to capture Alfred's clueless face. "And you've never done a video chat?"

Alfred shook his head, but didn't seem to catch on to Francis's train of thought. "No, Arthur's not really a technical guy so he doesn't have Skype, and he didn't want to get into texting with me 'cause he hates his phone's tiny keypad."

Francis sighed softly, and reached out to take one of Alfred's hands in his, patting it tenderly. "Alfred," he began gently. "The story Arthur's fed you over Facebook rings a few alarm bells that we've come to recognise on this TV series as being signs that your boyfriend might be a catfish. And I think your cousin Matthew recognised those warning signs, too, and that's why he asked us to come here and help you."

Alfred glanced between the two presenters, looking lost and helpless. "I thought Mattie signed me up for the show so you could help me meet Arthur in person! I didn't know you guys all thought he was a catfish!"

"Let's just consider the evidence," said Francis, holding up a finger as he counted off the dreaded clues. "Arthur's Facebook page only has a few Friends and photos, as if it's a quick fake account someone's whipped up," the French presenter elaborated.

"He just hates social networking..." Alfred argued meekly.

Francis held up a second finger, unperturbed. "He says he cares about you, but he won't talk on the phone or video chat with you." A third finger. "And you've asked him _three times_ now if you can fly out to see him, and he said no."

Francis trailed off to allow Alfred time to digest the information, but Alfred quickly shook his head in dismissal.

"I know this all sounds scary and dramatic," Elizabeta said sympathetically from behind the camera lens. "But what Francis is trying to say is just to keep your guard up. People can be whoever they want to be online, so you shouldn't blindly believe everything Arthur's told you. He may have genuine feelings for you, as he says, but if he's refused to meet you in person that means he obviously has _something_ to hide, at least. We don't know who this guy really is. So just…don't get your hopes up too high, okay?"

Alfred nodded miserably, and Elizabeta and Francis left Alfred's home feeling just as bad as the poor boy looked.

They honestly hadn't set out to make such a morbid show about liars and heartbreak, as '_Catfish_' had sadly turned out to be. Both Francis and Elizabeta were advocates of love of all kinds, and determined to denounce the stigmas about online relationships and Internet dating. But the more they worked on '_Catfish_', the more pessimistic the two presenters became. It seemed that no matter how many people they tried to help with online relationships, all they met were lies and deceit.

And now poor Alfred was going to get his heart broken just like all the others, and Francis and Elizabeta couldn't help but feel guilty as they pulled up outside Arthur Kirkland's house a few days later to film the climactic confrontation between the Internet couple. They were the ones who'd flown Alfred all the way to this city halfway across the country, just so he could get his heart broken on national television. When had their show lost its way? When had they grown so pessimistic about love? They almost wanted to turn back and put a stop to it all.

But they had a show to finish, and Alfred deserved answers.

It was Francis who moved first. He took a deep breath, gestured for Elizabeta to pick up her camera, and they began filming the climax of their episode, resigning themselves to the inevitable.

"Well, this is the address he gave us," said Francis suspiciously, as they got out of the car. The big town house and the pretty downtown neighbourhood – it was all too perfect, just like the rest of Arthur Kirkland's story. "I will go and see if he's in. You two wait here and I'll bring him down."

Francis climbed the small flight of stone steps to the porch, and rapped upon the red front door. Alfred stayed behind, holding his breath as he gazed up at the house.

Finally, the door opened a crack, and Elizabeta swung her camera towards the house, feeling Alfred go rigid beside her. Francis was in the way, and the door was only opened a sliver so they couldn't see through the gap to the man inside. Francis was having a quick, hushed conversation, it was impossible to tell what was going on…

And then Francis moved aside, and a young man emerged into the light. He looked exactly like the photos Alfred had shown them on Arthur's Facebook page: silky fair hair, bright green eyes, devastatingly handsome… The only surprise was the pair of monstrous dark eyebrows on his face, for the photos Arthur posted on Facebook were cropped right above the eyes to hide them.

Elizabeta was frozen in shock – she really hadn't expected "Arthur Kirkland" to look anything like the stunning photos he'd posted online. This was almost a first on '_Catfish_.'

"Arthur!"

Elizabeta swung her camera back to Alfred, who had taken a step towards the house, his face alight with joy and relief.

"Alfred? It…It can't be!" the other man gasped (the English accent was apparently real after all).

For some reason, Arthur was the one who looked most surprised. Here were Francis, Elizabeta and Alfred, who'd come all this way expecting to meet a fraud, and _Arthur_ was the one with wide eyes, clutching his heart as if he were seeing a ghost.

Alfred laughed. "Of course it can! I told you I'd find a way to get to you some day! I know you said you were scared to meet face to face and I'm sorry to surprise you like this - but look, if it's about your eyebrows, I don't care! I love them! I love everything about you!"

"…But you're not real!"

Alfred blinked for a moment in silent confusion, then he laughed aloud. "What are you talking about? I'm right here!"

"But you were too perfect!" Arthur insisted, taking a few steps down towards the pavement and to Alfred. "I knew you were just some catfish online, but I was tired of being lonely so I let myself enjoy your attention a little while and promised myself not to fall for you. But then I did, like an idiot, and when you said you wanted to meet I knew I couldn't because you were all a lie and – "

"Wait just a moment," Francis interrupted. He walked halfway down the steps to stand between Arthur and Alfred, who were drawing ever closer to each other. "You thought _Alfred_ was the catfish?"

"Well, of course!" Arthur exclaimed, as if it were obvious. "He was too perfect! He's so genuine and warm-hearted and he makes me feel better just seeing his name online. And _look_ at him, for God's sake! He's…He's perfect…" Arthur trailed off, his gaze drifting to Alfred's and staying there as the two men gazed at each other. "I thought you were trying to trick me…But I still fell for you."

"I never lied to you," Alfred said fervently, taking another step towards Arthur, who was now almost at the bottom of the stairs. "They tried to tell me _you_ were the catfish," he added, smiling. "That you were too good to be true. But I knew…I knew you had to be real. I loved you too much."

By now they were standing face to face at the bottom of the stairs, Elizabeta zooming in her camera to the misty-eyed expression they shared between them.

"You really love me?" Arthur asked. "Even though we've never met?"

"We've met now," Alfred grinned, his hands slipping reverently into Arthur's and squeezing gently. "And I love you even more."

Arthur's smile was slow, as if he were trying to hold it back, but eventually it escaped and spread across his face, mirroring Alfred's own blissful grin.

"I love you, too."

The starry-eyed gazing was too much even for Elizabeta at this point, and she'd got all the footage she could need (or handle) for now. They could come back tomorrow for an interview with the happy couple, but for now, she and Francis could slip away, knowing they'd got a hit episode and remembering, once again, just what they were working for in the first place.


	12. October 12th

**AUTHOR: TheEbonyTiger**

**12th of October, 2014 - Brno Ossuary**

Alfred Frederick Jones hated dark underground spaces.

No, wait. Scratch that. Alfred Frederick Jones hated dark underground spaces filled with _skeletons._

Working in underground tunnel or spaces had been part of the job description and Alfred was fine with it. Throw in three to four skeletons like the ones he had worked with in the pyramids, he'd still be fine. After all, seeing skeletons and bones was part of his life as an archeologist. But to have about 50,000 skeletons at once stuffed in one medieval channel? Alfred couldn't help but feel a shiver run down his spine as he walked into the Brno ossuary.

He hated how it was cold and musty in the ossuary even though it was summer now in Czech Republic. He hated how the air left a weird taste in his mouth. Most of all he hated how the bones and skulls of the deceased were everywhere and staring, gaping-eyed at him, making him feel vulnerable and exposed. It felt like a nightmare and Alfred desperately wanted to leave.

Alfred Frederick Jones was feeling miserable.

As he was wallowing in self-pity, someone whacked him on the head, breaking his train of thought. "For Pete's sake would you stop looking like every McDonald's in the world had closed down and focus on your work?" a proper British voice chastised him. Grumbling while rubbing the sore spot on his head, Alfred turned towards the owner of the voice, a man in his early twenties with a pale complexion and the bushiest eyebrows you could find on a person. "Why are we here again? Everything's done, there's nothing else to dig." He pouted, wanting to get out as soon as possible.

The man, who was actually Alfred's partner and whose name was Arthur glared daggers at him. "We're here because we have to make a report on the place and gather any extra information we can before this ossuary is opened to the public. Now get to work!" Arthur barked at him, emerald eyes glinting dangerously in the dark. Alfred huffed in annoyance and turned away from Arthur by his heels, mumbling under his breath something along the lines of 'Stuffy Britons' and 'workaholics'

Arthur, noticing his partner's discomfort and sour mood sighed, " Oh chin up will you? Don't think this place so negatively and get lost in morbidity, if you look around and feel closely, it's actually a pretty peaceful place to meditate. This place reminds us that life is fleeting but some part of us can live on this world. And if this makes you feel better, this is only the second largest ossuary, we could have been in the catacombs in Paris." He said giving Alfred a small smile and went back to jotting notes down.

Taking in Arthur's advice, Alfred looked around and noticed that the bones were stacked in patterns on the pillars and walls. In between the bones there would be a skull sticking out arranged neatly in order. It did look a little… creative? The skulls were forever grinning, as if to say, " It's okay, death is just another adventure! Nothing bad about it!" With further inspection of the ossuary, Alfred found a few preserved slabs of stone carvings along with some tombstones, each of them with a foreign language engraved on them. The cravings were neat and artistic, and were a little damp due to the cold damp atmosphere. Alfred started to relax a bit more, the ossuary was quiet since there was only Arthur and him, it was peaceful and the occasionally scratching of pen against paper was comforting. The ossuary was under a church after all, giving it an additional peaceful holy atmosphere, overshadowing the previous gloominess.

Walking deeper into the subterranean channel, Alfred found Arthur arching his back forwards, his golden scruffy hair reflecting the dim light shone down on him. One hand on his hip and the other under his chin, inspecting the object in front of him, eyes narrowed into slits. Alfred's eye widened as he realized what Arthur was busy examining. Under the faint light, hundreds of skulls lined up in tidy rows ascending upwards line after line, making it look like a stairs made of skulls going up to nowhere.

"Whoa" Alfred breathed out. "That's a lot of skulls."

"Indeed." Arthur agreed.

They stood in silence as Arthur continued inspecting the skulls and occasionally writing something down his notebook while Alfred stood gazing at the arrangement of skulls. After a few moments, Alfred broke into a grin.

"Hey Artie" he called, his dimples showing as he grinned cheekily.

Still focusing on his notes, Arthur replied distractedly. "Hmm?"

"Do you know what are the skulls doing?" he continued, bouncing on his heels.

Catching the other mans' attention, Arthur looked up from his notebook, head cocking to one side. "What?"

Alfred grinned wider and replied, " They are _skulking_. You know, skull sulking, so _skulking. _Getit? Hehe."

Arthur rolled his eyes at the American "Hilarious, you should have been a comedian rather than an archeologist. Now spill, what did you gather?"

Alfred straightened his posture and cleared his throat. "Well by looking at the bones. I'd say they were from the 1600 and 1700s and were once piled in neat rows like these, but at some point water and mud had flooded this underground ossuary and jumbled the bones, leaving it for the new archeologists like us to arrange it back to place. There wasn't much, but the place has been disinfected, it's safe to open to the public. What about you?" He stated, trying to take a peek at his British partner's notes but was too slow as Arthur snapped the book shut and pocketed it.

Arthur hummed in agreement, tapping the pen on his chin. "Yes, I suppose the bones are rather quite ancient."

"Just like you" Alfred cut in with a snicker, earning another whack on the head.

"Oh shush you plonker. As I was saying, these bones are pretty old and the information you gathered was spot on. However you missed out one more thing. The owners of these bones died of various diseases. You can see that by the colouration of the bones itself. Look" Arthur pointed one skull with the tip of his pen, nodding knowingly.

Alfred leaned in towards the skull and scrutinized the skull as Arthur carried on. "The bones are tinted yellow, having never been exposed to sunlight, but the extra-yellow ones likely indicate death from cholera, while the owners of the red-tinted bones probably died from the plague."

Alfred nodded along Arthur's word, absorbing the new piece of information while trying to figure out the cause of death with each skull. "Cholera, cholera, plague, old age, plague. Hey wait a minute." He paused at a particular skull. It stood out from the others, as it was white. It puzzled Alfred, weren't skulls that are white meant they had been exposed to sunlight?

"Hey Artie, check this one out, it's different." Alfred called Arthur over. Arthur's eyes widened in surprise at the abnormal skull. "Why this is most odd! This skull is only a month old! Why is this here?" he exclaimed, eyes swirled with confusion and surprise.

"Dienź dobry! I see you have found my skull! Wohoo! Now will you help me?" a cheerful voice sounded behind the two grown men, causing both of them to yelp in surprise and whip around with their hands on their chest to calm their rapid heartbeats.

A man with short blonde hair reaching to his shoulders and dull green eyes with a hint of surprise was staring back at them, eyebrows raised at their sudden movement. "Whoa, whoa, uspokoić, I don't mean any harm. I just need help. Chill." His hands rose as if to surrender.

The room felt like it had dropped a few degrees for Alfred as he noticed the man was translucent; he could see the bones on the wall through the guy. Alfred felt his blood freeze.

"G-gh-gho-" Alfred stuttered out. Ironic how he was afraid of the supernatural while his work required him to work with the dead, myths and curses that will make any man shiver with fear.

"Ghost" Arthur quietly finished, eerily calm about the whole ordeal.

"Yes yes, I'm a ghost. I'm dead. Big deal. I don't even know how I died! One minute I was shopping the other I found myself in this unfashionable cave! This place should use some more pink." The ghost waved his hand, bored at their reaction. " I have a name too you know. It's Feliks. Feliks Łukasiewicz. Now please, would you both help me get back home? I don't belong here. I want to find out too. You are the only ones who spotted my skull. So please?" Feliks begged, giving them a puppy-dog-eyed look.

"You're from Poland, not Czech are you?" Arthur continued, still feeling calm about everything. In response, Feliks clapped his hands with glee "Siepacz! You're right! I'm from the neighbouring country Poland! Does that mean you'll help?" He asked excitedly.

Alfred immediately broke from his trance and stared at Arthur, horrified. There's no way he'll work with the ghost! What was Arthur thinking!? Don't tell him Arthur was going to accept! He stared desperately at Arthur.

Arthur's eyes gleamed brightly, lips curling into a small smirk. He had that _look_ on. That look when he was going to do something that Alfred never liked.

At one look on Arthur's face, Alfred knew he was doomed.

Please say no. Please say no.

"_Yes" _Arthur breathed out, lips going into a wider smile as if Christmas had come early for him.

"Great! Now we just need to find the other parts of my bones in this place then we can get out!"

At times like this, Alfred Frederick Jones hated his job.


	13. October 13th

**AUTHOR: CartoonCouples101**

**13th of October, 2014 - Secret Conversations**

Ravenclaw. Many times Alfred had been told that he didn't belong in such a group, that he wasn't serious enough for the House or that his grades weren't as good as they should. But Alfred never let that get him down. To him, Ravenclaws had a love of learning and Alfred did have the desire...just not in every subject. He loved Astronomy more than other subject. Many times he had been caught sleeping during his first two classes as the previous night the Ravenclaw stayed up to watch the stars. As a sixth year, he was almost on a nocturnal schedule for his field of study.

However, even the 'rule abiding' Ravenclaw students could be trouble makers. Deeply wanting to learn, it wasn't surprising that many Ravenclaw students are found in the Restricted Section of the library. It is a tradition passed down from the older students to the newer ones so they are rarely discovered. Alfred had been to the Restricted Section many times, sometimes guard duty or the distraction but a few times to read.

You were never supposed to go alone but Alfred was never one to follow the Ravenclaw's rule exactly. So one night during Christmas, he snuck into the Restricted Section in the library via a secret passage. Alfred's long oak wand emitted a tiny light. Moving over he went to the astronomy section. The student counted the rows silently before going down the row and picking up a thin green book.

Alfred flicked his wand, "_Sente Borum_." The spell took off charms for exactly one hour. Quickly, Alfred made his way to a table and began to read in the soft wand light. He had a time limit after all.

What he didn't realize was that his wand had attracted a lot of attention. Usually teachers were very lax during break and ghosts let people off the hook but Arthur Kirkland was anything but usual. Professor Kirkland had agreed to take the night shift for the next three days. Walking around with his own wand, he decided to go to the library as Mrs. Norris was scratching at the door.

The teacher followed the cat until he saw the light in the Restricted Section. "Tch," making his way into the area. "Nox," Arthur whispered as his wand eliminated the light. Using the student's light, he snuck up behind the teenager. "And what would you be doing in the Restricted Section, Mr. Jones?" he asked loudly, intending to scare the student.

And scare Alfred he did. Alfred paled and jumped around, a loud squeak coming from his mouth. "AH!" When he realized it wasn't a ghost, he calmed down a bit but cursed in his mind. '_Fuck, I shouldn't have come alone!'_ Taking a deep breath, he whisper yelled, "Are you trying to give me a heart attack?!"

Amused, Arthur leaned forward, "Are you trying to loose more points for your House? Because twenty points will be reduced from Ravenclaw." Then he gazed at Alfred. "Would you like me to take away more?"

Chastised enough, Alfred shook his head. "No, sorry." He shifted awkwardly from foot to foot.

"Of all the people I expected to be here, I must say, it wasn't you, Mr. Jones," Professor Kirkland said as he moved to see what Alfred was reading. Just some astronomy really, nothing that he thought would deserve it being restricted but then again it was only this page. "You couldn't get permission from your teachers? Do the rules not apply to you, Mr. Jones?"

Alfred glared at his teacher before trying to calm down. "No, I forgot to get an extension from my teacher so the library took it back. I never got to finish it. My teacher is gone this Christmas."

"And it couldn't wait?" Arthur asked, still amused but admiring the dedication. "You also managed to undo the spells put in place. I guess they are a bit old but as the Charms teacher, I'll have to change them." Looking at the American's sad face, he sighed. "Tell you what, you can finish reading the book as long as you can explain everything to me after you're done."

The American student was about to protest when he realized that they would have to come up with new ways to charm the books. "I'm sorry." He grumbled. Then he registered what his teacher said? "Really? Oh thank you Professor Kirkland!" He hugged the other before resuming reading.

Caught in the hug, Arthur blushed a bit. "Yes, yes. I did study this in school but never anything deeper than the first course." Sitting across from Alfred, he waited. Eventually the hour ran out and Alfred was forced to put the book back for the night. "So talk to me."

Excited to talk about his favorite subject, Alfred started explaining the book in surprising clarity for his teacher. Dumbing down the language for him a bit, the student talked with his hands flaring about as he tried to explain the wonders of the stars and galaxies. The subjects ranged from muggle studies, black holes, physics, to astrology. Alfred must have talked for an hour on the subject before Arthur pulled him to a stop.

"Thank you Alfred. But it's getting late." Arthur had learned a lot even if he had abandoned his guard duty. "I enjoyed that but we need to head to bed. I'll walk you to your House."

Alfred looked about to resist but just nodded and together they traveled to the Ravenclaw Common Room, with Arthur answering the question. Then Arthur looked at Alfred seriously. "I...enjoyed myself tonight. While I normally don't condone breaking the rules, I could...make an exception. Try for Tuesday nights." With that, Arthur quickly left so the student couldn't see his blushing face.

Arthur had never seen someone so beautiful as Alfred was when talking about his passion. He would like to see that again though. Getting back to his dorm, he didn't see Alfred's elated face, the American's wide grin. Nor did he hear Alfred jump into the air and scream "YES!"

Perhaps they both saw something extremely beautiful that night.


	14. October 14th

**ARTIST: theconfusedartist (Art is available on the **_**365daysofusuk**_** tumblr.)**

**AUTHOR: spectrum-22**

**14th of October, 2014 - Third Time Lucky**

"At university," was all Arthur had said that morning when asked how he'd met his partner Alfred, glancing up only briefly at his two colleagues before focusing back on his computer screen.

"...And?" Emma, seated at a desk opposite him in their small office, prompted.

"_And_, don't be so nosy! Haven't I told you before that it isn't an interesting story?"

"Yes," Francis answered, joining forces with Belle, "which is why it probably is! Your interesting stories are usually the things you don't want to tell us about."

"Very funny. But I mean it this time."

He wasn't left in peace for long; Francis, ever so casually leafing through a pile of papers, said something quickly to Emma in French that left them both smirking. Arthur didn't need to understand the language to figure out that their amusement came at his expense.

"What?" he narrowed his eyes at the troublesome pair, not for the first time being teased in such a way.

"Oh, nothing," Francis said lightly, which to Arthur clearly meant the opposite, "I simply remarked that you were probably too drunk to even remember meeting your darling Alfred!"

"You-!" Arthur immediately spluttered, much to their sniggers of laughter, "I was _not _drunk at uni all the time thank you, no matter what Alfred told you!"

"We're only kidding, Arthur!" Emma replied after a short while, still grinning, "But he has told us some great stories!"

Arthur grumbled quietly in response and again made a mental note to drag Alfred away before he could speak next time the three came into contact.

"If you must know," he eventually began, deciding to indulge them if not just to get them off his back "ah, you already know Alfred was studying here on a year abroad while I was in my final year, and we...we saw each other around campus a few times I suppose," he paused as if unsure whether to say something, "and he was the one who asked me out, we ended up walking the same way one day...and then we dated for the rest of the year, stayed together long distance while he finished his degree in the States, then he came back here and well, a few years later here we are now." He cleared his throat and had a suspicious feeling he had started to blush.

"Now was that really so hard?" Francis teased, and Arthur shrugged, smiling a little in spite of himself.

"You're too cute, Arthur!" Emma added, "Next time he comes to say hi and take you out for lunch though we'll have to hear how he tells it!"

This would be slightly problematic for Arthur, who may have still abridged the story somewhat, and thus that evening when he got home he had to tell Alfred about the whole situation.

Being the loving, understanding and supportive boyfriend he was, Alfred laughed as soon as the memories were brought up.

"How we met, huh? What'd you tell them?"

"Well, I didn't completely lie," Arthur defended himself as he changed out of his work clothes, "I said we saw each other around a few times and you asked me out."

"Right," Alfred grinned, "So next time I visit I'm not allowed to fill in the details then?"

"I'm glad you understand."

"So I can't say that the first time I saw you you were so wasted you tried to punch me, _just because_ someone knocked my drink over you, but you fell over instead?"

"Absolutely not! And you're exaggerating...I wasn't that aggressive."

"As if you remember Arthur! That's why the next night you were all 'cor, you're American!' and fascinated by it, cause you totally remembered me, right?"

"Shut up," Arthur grumbled, mainly at his terrible impression of an English accent, but Alfred continued grinning at him from the bedroom doorframe, clearly enjoying his embarrassment.

"You weren't that much better than me anyway," Arthur pointed out, "Wasn't I trying to help you from paying for drinks in dollars, you twit?"

"Yeah, well, I was new to the country, cut me some slack! I still had stuff to learn...like how bad this country's excuse for fries are!"

"I'm pretty sure that was just a particularly bad batch," Arthur mused, remembering the third night they met, "even I felt ill after eating those."

"And there I was trying to cheer you up by sharing them! You looked so miserable walking back by yourself, you know!"

"I still don't know what was wrong," Arthur admitted with a sheepish smile. Alfred came over to him and wrapped his arms around his waist from behind.

"At least you remembered me properly after that," he said as Arthur tried to swat him away, "third time lucky, huh?"

"Like I've said, I didn't ever forget you! I don't help just any stranger pay for their drinks and buy me chips, you know."

Alfred hummed in semi agreement, still sceptical but not offended; it was uni, and freshers week, and even though Arthur was hardly a fresher, it just made it all funnier.

"It was like I saw three different Arthur's before I met the real one!"

"Which makes me question your taste, really," Arthur managed to turn around to face Alfred, and put some space between them. "What's the 'real' me, then?"

"Well, you do still get mad at me quite a lot..."

"Charming!" Arthur tutted, "that's the best you can do?"

"...You're the love of my life?" Alfred tried again, winking as he did so.

"Too late. And too cheesy."

Alfred laughed, eyes sparkling with such happiness that Arthur couldn't help smile too. "Jeez, what do you want from me?"

"Hmm," Arthur started, but before he could think of what to say Alfred had stepped forward to kiss him, and all he could think of as he felt those strong arms tighten around him was how lucky he truly was that Alfred had taken a chance on him.


	15. October 15th

**AUTHOR: givemelibertea**

**15th of October, 2014 - Night**

As Alfred crouched down on a thick branch of the tree he'd scaled to observe the come and go of guards around the mansion, he realized that infiltration would not be as easy as he'd hoped. He'd probably have to kill one of the guards patrolling the gates, and then maybe kill the one standing by the bushes, and he was always at risk of being spotted by marksmen despite the dark of the fallen night.

"I'll be surprised if you can pull that off by yourself," a voice suddenly interrupted his planning, and Alfred whirled around, the instinctive jerk of his fingers activating the hidden blades in his sleeve. Alfred tucked them back into the shadows when he recognized the mocking grin of his ally and adversary, Captain Arthur Kirkland.

"Kirkland."

"Jones," Arthur nodded and jumped down from a higher branch he stood on, in order to lean cockily on the branching of the trunk. "I didn't think we'd both have the same target."

"Sounds like more than one person wants this Carriedo guy dead. Shame. He sounded like a nice guy to me when I eavesdropped on him this afternoon," Alfred shrugged. "However, the difference between us is that I am doing this for justice, and you are doing it for money."

"Both are valid reasons, don't you think?" Arthur shrugged, and sat down on Alfred's branch. "I think we should stop arguing and cooperate on this one."

"Sorry, but sneaking in alone is going to be a challenge. Don't think we'll do well together. Sit this one out, won't you?" Alfred rolled his eyes.

"Oh, I'm not sneaking in," Arthur huckled as if he knew something the other didn't. "I'm getting you in." And he pulled his hairband off, letting his shoulder-length blond hair tumble down his back.

"What?" Alfred watched, confused, as Arthur fixed his fringe in a way that made his eyes look wider, like a scared deer. He noticed the black pencil on his upper eyelids as well as his lower, and he suddenly realized that Arthur had been planning this since the beginning. "Oh, so your plan is crossdressing and seducing the guards into your bed while I kill our target. Very elaborate, Kirkland." Alfred rolled his eyes. "You really are desperate, aren't you?"

"No, lad. I assure you that I could get anybody I want in my bed at any given moment." And the look he gave Alfred made shivers run down his spine. "I just get a bit picky, seeing as I have so many possible choices," he smirked, and Alfred suddenly felt too embarrassed to look at him in the eye.

"Whatever. Just hurry."

"Yes, sir. Of course," Kirkland squeaked in such a low voice that Alfred completely fell for his ruse for a moment. The final touch was the cut he made on his arm in order to paint his lips red with his own blood.

Alfred didn't dare say it, but Arthur was both terrifying and devastatingly alluring.

"Here's hoping the good masters will take pity on a poor lass like me," Arthur pouted in the same voice, and Alfred was left speechless.

"You won't fool anyone, Kirkland. Spare yourself already," he breathed, cheeks completely red.

"Watch me." And Arthur had the gall to wink at him before he gracefully leapt off the branch, to the ground.

And Alfred did, and reminded himself to just _breathe _when Arthur practically draped himself on the bars of the gate, speaking to the guards in a soft, pleading voice. The guards laughed at him at first, but then Arthur began swinging his hips, going lower and lower, and for hell's sake, Arthur really knew what he was doing. Alfred was ashamed in his stead, seeing as Arthur seemed to have no shame in finally convincing the guards to open the gate to get a grab at the pleading 'woman'.

And said 'woman' let them take her by the shoulders and guide her behind a stone pillar, and for a moment, something like white hot anger flashed through the assassin's veins when one of the guards unexpectedly grabbed Arthur's ass. Arthur himself flinched, but quickly regained his composure and guided the hand off of his backside, pulling the guards into the night instead. As soon as they were gone, and their fate at the hands of the pirate captain were sealed, Alfred leapt off the tree, landed with a roll, and ran past the gates, up the main staircase, and into the courtyard. There, he ducked into the nearest bushes, and watched the guards do their rounds, analyzing their patterns and trying to figure out how to sneak past them without being seen. One person identifying him could have the devastating effect of setting the alarm bell off, which would cause incredible trouble for both him and Arthur, if the man was still around.

So he jumped past the path to the small plantation, where he ducked in the leaves and the night to evade being spotted. Considering the number of guards around, he actually did make a lot of progress before he made the mistake of moving around a bush when the guard was too close. The Spaniard turned around and spotted his white robes through the darkness, and immediately let out a cry. He was silenced by Alfred a second later, but the damage was done. Another soldier had heard, and was going for the alarm bell. The assassins was too far to catch up with him, though, so his best bet was to rush to his target and do his job before the reinforcements could do theirs.

He assassinated two guards and shot sleeping darts at a marksman on the roof before running to climb the manor. He knocked out the sleeping marksman on his way across the rooftops, and finally he reached his target, the Templar Spaniard. Sheathing his swords, he triggered his hidden blades, and he jumped. Like an eagle, he swooped down from above, hidden by the shadows of the night, and brought justice upon his enemy without remorse. Once the man dead, he shut his eyes in respect, and grabbed the key to his warehouse on his way out of the gardens.

Strangely enough, no guards were waiting for him, and his flight out of the plantation was an easier trip than his entry. He could not help but notice, though, the telltale shapes of bodies in the tall grass or bushes, and the self-explanatory occurrence of the sabotaged alarm bell. Arthur had been around, and by the body count he'd left, he sure had done his job right.

Not right enough, though, for a couple of hundred metres away from the gate, Alfred was spotted by a marksman. He barely avoided the shot that followed, but worst of all were the guards that spotted him, and began chasing him. Although Alfred usually loved the chase between the streets of the city, the climbing and crawling and jumping and blending in with the night, this time, he was mostly worried about Arthur's whereabouts. This many guards was not a good sign. He just hoped that the pirate captain hadn't gotten into any trouble.

He was able to exit the plantation safely, but the guards did not let him get away so easily. They chased him down the dirt path, into the first set of houses. And as Alfred took a turn in a back alley to try and ditch them, a hand suddenly shot out of an abandoned shack and dragged him into the shadows of the doorless house.

He was smacked against a wall and tried to protest, but then his assailant kissed him, and Alfred barely even heard the guards' footsteps thundering past the shack. When they were completely gone, his mouth was released, and he squinted at his attacker, only to recognize him by the cocky smirk on his face.

"Are you serious?" he groaned, but did not object when Arthur roughly grabbed his chin and kissed him again. Alfred tasted Arthur's blood on his lips, and instead of being disgusting, it was strangely exciting. He was snogging the pirate captain everyone spoke of, the ruthless, fearless, powerful Captain Arthur Kirkland. And he was liking it.

"I know the way you looked at me," Kirkland breathed in his ear, pressing up against him. "Those perverted men... Oh, the things they would do for a pleading lady out of her wits," he chuckled, and a shiver rippled up Alfred's spine. He breathed out shakily.

"You're no better, dressing up like a woman-" Alfred was interrupted by Arthur's lips and this time, he didn't resist. He grabbed Arthur by the waist and pulled him close, and delighted in the hum of his voice vibrating through his kisses. Arthur's hands ran all over his body, tracing his chest, his ribs, and Alfred was incredibly satisfied, until Arthur pulled away completely. "W-What?"

"Come here," Arthur invited in a sultry voice, green eyes glinting in the night as he beckoned him forward, and stepped backwards towards the windowsill. Moonlight rained upon his face, his lips bleeding red, his eyes sharp and alluring with the pencil work, his body lean and firm from years of freerunning and fighting for what he wanted... and Alfred could not refuse the invitation.

"Arthur..." he sighed, wanting nothing but to slip back into the pirate's embrace, but the captain stopped him with a wave of his hand.

"Oh, Alfred," he chuckled, and put a hand up. In the moonlight glinted the cold metal of the warehouse key that Alfred had taken from his target. "You're no better, falling for someone like me..." He smirked, and backed up until his back met the windowsill. "And, well... I suppose I am not any better for falling for you, in every sense of the term. I will see you around, Captain Jones," he nodded in mock respect, and then threw himself backwards.

"No!" Alfred cried, and rushed to the window, just in time to see Arthur's thin form complete its freefall off the cliff and plunge into the black waters. Alfred cursed himself for letting his guard down, and watched Arthur swim away towards his ship anchored not far off. A cloud passed in front of the moon, and the next moment, Arthur Kirkland had melted into the night.


	16. October 16th

**AUTHOR: hannaadi88**

**16th of October, 2014**

The words on the screen danced in front of Alfred's eyes, confusing him in their blur for a good minute before he remembered to blink. They sharpened back into focus but it was no use- the damage had already been done. Alfred's concentration was gone, sacrificed on the altar of extra hours at the office the night before. It was all he could do to keep his eyes from closing for good and forbidding himself to slump down onto his desk in a tired heap.

Respectable job or not, Alfred wasn't sure he'd be able to physically continue. With a loud yawn he tipped the back of his chair against the wall of his cubicle, stretching his arms out in front of him. Man, he was absolutely cramped. It was maddening, especially considering that Kirkland had such a nice and spacious office to-

"Slacking off, Jones?"

Alfred's chair fell back down onto the floor with a sharp thud. He winced and turned around in his seat to flash his boss a sheepish smile. Speak of the devil. The man had an uncanny ability to sense when he wasn't at his utmost. Damn his intuition.

...then again, that intuition really came in handy when he was pushed down into the covers and engulfed in a warm, damp mouth which knew _exactly_ where to run its tongue...

"No, just resting," Alfred replied firmly, meeting Kirkland's eyes with his own piercing gaze. "I want to be in tiptop shape if you assign me some more overtime tonight, sir."

Kirkland's lips curved in a tight smile. "The company is dealing with a considerable overload this season, Jones, as you very well know. If you are reluctant to give up some of your free time, you may want to consider a resignation."

_Here we go again._

Alfred shook his head. "You've got it all wrong, sir. I mean," he faltered at the expression on the man's face- okay, so maybe starting off an explanation stating that the other was wrong was not the best strategy- "I mean I'm not reluctant. Just a little tired. I don't have a problem with extra work."

"In that case," Kirkland said smoothly as he gathered a pile of papers from the nearest desk, "I'm sure you wouldn't mind helping Honda with his work. He hasn't been feeling well lately, have you, Honda?"

Kiku Honda, who had been discreetly watching their exchange as did everyone else in the office, colored at the sudden shift in conversation. "I, yes, of course," he stumbled, faking a cough for good measure. "I think it's the flu."

Alfred wished with all his might to be able to storm out of the room with a frustrated scream, but the smile he flashed Kirkland was bright. "Sure thing," he took the offered papers and placed them on his own desktop. "Anything to help out a friend."

"Excellent," the smile Kirkland returned was the smuggest Alfred had ever seen on the man. "Carry on, then."

He could feel all the eyes in the room on him as he turned back in his seat to face the computer screen. The gazes lingered for a long moment before gradually returning to their own work, unwilling to be the next employee to be bullied for allowing their attention to wander.

They had no reason to worry, though. Alfred knew that he was a special case, a thorn at the side of his boss that the man yearned to rid himself of. As long as Alfred didn't give him any reason to fire him, though, all he could do was torture him to the brink of resignation.

No, the other employees were safe. They hadn't slept with Kirkland, after all.

Had it been any other man, any other job, Alfred would have reported abuse at the first jab. Maybe he would have given up and tried to find a different job. Kirkland wasn't any other man, though, and their position left no room to lose in this fight of wills.

Kirkland obviously didn't want a man he bedded working for him. Alfred refused to be bullied out of a perfectly good job.

Or a potentially good fuck.

Their liaison had been meant to be nothing more than a one night stand, true, but now that they saw each other every day, Alfred resented it being ignored. They _had _spent a night together, and it was honestly ridiculous for Arthur to pretend and act like it didn't happen.

He'd left a note saying he had a good time, after all. Alfred wanted to hear him say so.

If it took another round, so be it. Alfred F. Jones never balked from a challenge.


	17. October 17th

**AUTHOR: Zeplerfer**

**17th of October, 2014 -** **Ich liebe dich**

Alfred held up his camera phone and grinned. "Hey, Ludwig! Say 'squirrel'!"

"What are you doing?" the German exchange-student asked as he continued to connect the cables between the laptop and the projector. "We were supposed to start preparing for the event two minutes ago."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But I saw this cool video on youtube!"

"If I say that word, you will start working?"

"Yep!"

"Very well. Squ-irr-rell," Ludwig said with a long-suffering sigh.

"Thanks, man!" Alfred giggled and put away his phone. He pressed a few buttons on the laptop and the projector hummed to life. Despite his annoying habits, Alfred remained a key member of the LGBT Club thanks to his technical prowess.

Ludwig glanced down at his watch and nodded at a job well done. "Three minutes left. You should try to say Eichhörnchen."

"Eich-what-en?" Alfred wrinkled his nose. "Nah, if you're gonna teach me German, you gotta make it an insult!"

"Hmm." Ludwig rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Say: 'ich liebe dich'."

"Ich liebe dich," Alfred repeated. "What's that mean?"

"It means you are dumb."

Alfred grinned. "Great! I can't wait to use it!"

They both turned to look at the door as it opened. "Ciao! Is the movie ready to go?" Feliciano asked, bouncing into the room with a platter of biscotti.

Ludwig nodded. "Yes. We can start when Arthur arrives with the cookies."

Alfred made a noise of disgust in the back of his throat when he heard the other student's name. "Dude! He's not _making_ them, is he?"

"No, I purchased them from a store," Arthur snapped as he walked into the room carrying two grocery bags. "My culinary arts are wasted on you."

Alfred and Arthur glared at each other. Everyone in school knew about their messy break-up two years ago, but they were too stubborn to quit the one club they still shared. Although they tried to avoid attending the same events, they had both been drawn in by the promise of a movie with cookies.

"Thank you, Feliciano. I'm sure the biscotti will be delicious," Ludwig said stiffly, doing his best to fill the silence.

"It's my nonna's recipe," Feli said proudly as he placed a biscotto into Ludwig's hand.

Alfred and Arthur sat on opposite sides of the classroom, avoiding each other's gaze as other students filtered into the room. When the time came for the movie to start, Alfred walked to the front of the room and waved at everyone.

"Hey guys, thanks for coming to Milk and Cookies! We've got cookies made by Feliciano and this other batch here was definitely purchased at a store and we've got the receipts to prove it. Anyway, October is LGBT History Month, so we're showing a movie about Harold Milk, who was, like, the first gay mayor of San Francisco. Enjoy!"

"_Harvey_ and he wasn't the mayor," Arthur corrected.

"Dude, whatever."

"If you're going to introduce the movie, you could at least read the Wikipedia article!"

"Hell no. I didn't want to read spoilers."

"It's a movie about real events! They're not spoilers, they're history. Honestly, were you surprised in Titanic when the boat sank?"

"We don't talk about Titanic," Alfred replied in a cold voice.

"Oh, that's right. You always cry when Jack dies."

"Hey, at least I'm not a cold-hearted bastard."

"Well, at least I'm not an idiot."

"I'm not dumb, ich liebe dich!" Alfred shouted.

"What?" Arthur gaped. Someone in the back of the room snickered.

Alfred grinned smugly. "That's right. I bet you thought I didn't know foreign languages. You're always calling me an idiot, but ich liebe dich."

"I... I didn't realize you still felt that way."

"It's kind of obvious, ain't it?"

"Ludwig, could you kindly start the movie without us?" Arthur asked as he grabbed Alfred's arm and pulled him out of the room.

"Wait, where are we going?" Alfred asked, blinking in confusion as Arthur led him to a dark, deserted classroom.

"I didn't want to have this conversation in public." Arthur took a deep breath and gazed directly into Alfred's eyes. "I've missed you every day since we broke up."

"You did?"

"I thought it wouldn't hurt so much if I acted like I despised you, and I was so sure that you hated me too."

"Hey, I don't hate you."

"I know." A smile brightened Arthur's face, and he kissed Alfred with all of the passion he had spent insulting the other student over the past two years. After a moment of shock, Alfred responded hungrily and eagerly. They gripped each other tightly in the dark classroom, like soldiers reunited with loved ones after a war.

"Wow." Alfred beamed at Arthur, his heart soaring with happiness. Until this moment, he didn't realize how much he had missed the soft smile that suffused Arthur's face and the way his lovely green eyes fluttered and half-closed in contentment. "I'm sorry I insulted you in German," he said, a look of chagrin on his face.

The English boy continued to smile and gently card his fingers through Alfred's soft hair. "When was that?" he asked, his eyebrows taking flight like curious birds.

"Um, just now."

Arthur took a sudden step back and gave Alfred a startled look. "You thought that 'ich liebe dich' was an insult?" he demanded.

Alfred bit his lip. "It isn't?"

"No! It means 'I love you'."

"Oh..." Alfred couldn't tell if Arthur was going to yell at him or cry, but all he really wanted was for Arthur to smile again. He grabbed Arthur's hand before the other boy could storm out of the room. "Wait! I miss you too!"

Arthur arched an eyebrow. "Well, you don't act like it."

"I know. I thought that you hated me, so I felt like I had to hate you. But I don't! I never did, and I'd really like if we could try again," he pleaded earnestly.

The English boy hesitated and each second that passed was like a dagger to Alfred's heart. Finally, Arthur nodded and stepped closer. "Yes, I think I'd like that."

"Heck yeah!" Alfred pulled Arthur into a hug and swung him around in a circle.

Arthur swatted him on the shoulder, but he was still smiling when Alfred put him down. "I can't believe Ludwig convinced you that 'ich liebe dich' was an insult. You really are a plonker," he said fondly.

"I don't speak Arthur. Are you saying you love me?"

Arthur leaned in for another kiss, and Alfred had his answer.

* * *

><p><em>Dedicated to LGBT History Month and that really cute tumblr post.<em>


	18. October 18th

**AUTHOR: Anonymous**

**18th of October, 2014 - The Clockmaker's Apprentice**

"But how do they _work_?" Prince Alfred of Spades demanded as he examined the silver watches in the velvet-lined display case. Covered with diamonds and lapis lazuli_,_ each was a work of beauty, though none actually told the time. These were no ordinary devices. These were _soul mate clocks_, designed to chime and glow when the owner met his or her soul mate. They were devilishly tricky to make and priceless beyond compare. And Alfred wasn't going to leave until someone explained it to him.

"Magic," the clockmaker's apprentice, a young man only a few years older than Alfred, replied.

"Okay, but how does the magic work?" Alfred pressed. "What if two soul mates meet as babies? How does the clock know that they're meant to be together when they can't even talk? What if their personalities change?"

"I'm not sure," the young man admitted, his green eyes flashing with a hint of interest. "We don't sell the clocks to anyone younger than 18."

Jack of Spades interrupted with a long-suffering sigh. "Was there something you _wanted_, Alfred?"

"Yup! One of those," the prince said, pointing to the soul mate clocks.

"Do you think that's a good idea?" Yao asked, in a tone of voice that indicated that it was _not _a good idea. "You will likely have to make a political marriage; I doubt your soul mate will be the chosen bride."

"I know that." Alfred laughed. "I still want one. And I want to see it made, so I know how it works," he added enthusiastically.

Over the next few months, the prince visited often to watch his clock's construction. To his surprise, it was the clockmaker's apprentice, Arthur, who did most of the work. The young man patiently explained the mechanical process to Alfred, though he was still unable or unwilling to describe the magical secret that made the clocks work. But Alfred didn't mind. He discovered that he liked spending time with Arthur, and he grew curious about the other young man.

"Artie, how come you don't have a clock?"

"Because I can sell it to a young lord for enough money to feed my family for a year," Arthur replied as he kept his gaze fixed on the diamonds he was attaching to the spade-shaped rim of the prince's soul mate clock.

"But wouldn't it be worth more to know who your soul mate is?"

Arthur shrugged. "It's not as romantic as you think," he said softly as he continued his delicate work. "With a clock, soul mates meet as strangers, but feel that they need to act immediately like lovers. They never really get the chance to fall in love."

"Is that the real reason you don't have a clock?" Alfred asked, and he grinned when Arthur blushed in reply.

The weeks passed too quickly, but for all his impatience, Alfred didn't complain when it seemed that his clock was taking longer to assemble than strictly necessary. Instead, he spent more time watching Arthur put the finishing touches on the spade-shaped watch.

"I almost want to break it with a hammer," Alfred said, feeling oddly annoyed as he watched Arthur attach a delicate silver chain to the nearly completed watch.

"What?" The apprentice nearly dropped his work. "Why?"

"So I can watch you make another."

"Oh." Arthur looked up at him with startled green eyes, and at that moment Alfred realized that he didn't really need the clock after all. Arthur must have realized it too, because he smiled back. "Tempting, but I really shouldn't."

The clock was saved by the arrival of the clockmaker, who insisted on giving it the final polish. Though the clockmaker would take the credit, Alfred knew that Arthur was the one who had poured his soul into the watch, turning it into a masterwork.

On the day the clockmaker presented the prince's watch at the castle, many nobles gathered in the reception room, undoubtedly hoping to hear the clock's chime up close and personal. Alfred gave his compliments to the clockmaker, but he made sure to catch Arthur's eyes as he spoke so the apprentice would know that the compliments were meant for _him_.

The crowded room held its breath as Alfred reached for the mechanism to wind up the clock. But he pulled back at the last moment and turned to beseech his parents. "If my soul mate is in this room, can I let the clock choose?"

The King and Queen shared a glance, but relented after one look at the eager and _noble_ crowd.

Alfred wound the clock and, as he suspected it would, it immediately began to chime with soft magical notes. Alfred grinned and walked along the edge of the room, allowing each person to touch the clock. The crowd held its breath, waiting for the glow that would signal a match.

Person by person, Alfred spiraled inward, leaving dozen of disappointed young men and women in his wake. He could feel the tension building and he grinned when his spiral reached the center. There was only one person left. Alfred held out the clock to Arthur, who hesitantly touched it, creating a warm glow that filled the room.

"You were right, Arthur. It _was _better to fall in love first."

With a joyful laugh, Arthur leapt into Alfred's arms and kissed him soundly.

And they lived happily ever after.


	19. October 19th

**ARTIST: Faux (Art is available on the **_**365daysofusuk**_** tumblr)**

**AUTHOR: Faux**

**19th of October, 2014 - A Sweet Delivery **

"What did you just call today?"

Arthur stood at the door of his Alfred's apartment, impatiently waiting as the other could be seen flitting in and out of view between the foyer and the entryway. Although Arthur had only lived in the States for a few months, he and Alfred had become fast friends at their mutual workplace at the firm in downtown Cleveland. Alfred was known for saying ridiculous things most of the time, and whatever nonsense he just spout was no exception.

"Sweetest day! Come on, Arthur, I'm sure you've heard of it!"

"I don't believe I have, Alfred. Is this another one of your American means of capitalism in an attempt to fund the already filthy rich candy corporations?"

Alfred paused his hustle and bustle, snow cap half on and off his head, to stare back at his companion in disbelief.

"Awww man-Why do you have to have a pessimistic tone about everything?"

Arthur, uncertain if this was a rhetorical question or not, was about to respond when Alfred suddenly came bouncing towards him with a frighteningly high pile of boxes in his arms. "But! I'm not letting you get me down today, Arthur. We have work to do, you and I."

Arthur stood with his mouth agape for a few seconds, floundering to catch a few boxes that tumbled down from the top. He tightened his lip in annoyance and looked down at his prize.

"Chocolate…?"

"Yeah! That's the whole point of Sweetest Day. The third Saturday of October, you go around and deliver chocolate to everyone you care about-doesn't have to be a boyfriend or spouse or anything-just people you care about."

"So I'm assuming that the giant assortment of treats you have there are for you to hand out to said individuals."

"Yep!"

"And apparently I am to accompany you in this task."

Alfred peered out from behind the impressive mound and beamed at the Brit, obvious excitement on his youthful face.

"Well of course. Geeze, Arthur, your must be rereading those _Sherlock_ books you love so much; your powers of deduction are incredible."

Arthur frowned. Eventually he sighed, turning over one of the boxes he'd captured earlier for closer inspection. Still wrapped in plastic, purchased recently no doubt, and accented with a small velvet ribbon, he had to admit that the novelty was quite cute.

"You do realize that is Sunday, Alfred. Thus making this event a day late."

"Yeah, so? I was at work all day yesterday-and the candy was on sale, so it's a win-win." Alfred answered matter-of-factly. " Don't people deserve to be told they're loved every day?"

Arthur sighed. This was a fight he wasn't going to win.

"Fine. The least I can do is drive you as you embark on this quest of yours."

The smile Arthur received in return made any hesitation or resentment he felt before melt away.

"Alright! Let's get going then."

Alfred's list was a tad bit longer that Arthur had bargained for. After driving around to the local orphanage, the nursing home, the homeless shelter, and finally the park, both of them were exhausted.

"See," Alfred said as he waved goodbye to a mother and daughter he'd just given away their last chocolates to, "Wasn't that worth all the trouble?"

"I must say, I like this holiday a bit better than your other chocolate-giving days." Arthur scanned the contents of their 'Chocolate Wagon', as Alfred had so affectionately named it, for any remaining candies. "I appreciate that you're not obligated to feel desperately lonely if you're not in a relationship with someone, and your affections aren't put into question if you don't purchase something for your lover. It's just chocolates between friends, family, and those you care for. It may still be a ploy to get money from consumer's pockets, but it's a charming sentiment."

To this, Alfred turned a bashful eye towards his friend, voice growing quiet.

"Well then, I hope you don't mind that I saved this for you then." The American began fishing around in his coat before pulling out a small heart-shaped box of chocolates from his pocket. The gentleman could feel his face grow hot as he read it was addressed to one Arthur Kirkland. "Ya know...for Sweetest day and all, 'cause you definitely fall under the right categories."

Arthur stood in silence for a moment or two before loudly clearing his throat and lifting his hand to his mouth to hide his embarrassment. He gingerly reached forward and took the box, doing his best to feign a calm and collected nature.

"Thank you, Alfred. Though I fear I have nothing for you in return…"

Alfred flashed his wide-eyed grin once more and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Don't worry, you can just save up for something really big for me next year. Valentine's Day's coming up faster than you think!"


	20. October 20th

**AUTHOR: theswedishpointofview**

**20th of October, 2014**

"Hey, Arthur?"

A deep growl was heard through the darkness of the damp cave. They were supposed to be sleeping after a long day of flying, resting their stiff limbs. They'd travelled a long way that day; all the way from the northern mountains to the southern white cliffs. They were both exhausted; Arthur more so than Alfred, understandably. And yet Alfred had a hard time to fall asleep.

As Arthur shifted to lie with his back to Alfred as a sign for him to shut up, the young blonde was pushed roughly by the other's back, making him slide a little across the stone-floor. Alfred didn't mind though, and promptly crawled back to lean across Arthur's back, trying to catch his gaze in the darkness.

"Remember how we first met and you tried to kill me by throwing me off the cliff, but you didn't because I was stronger than you? And I sliced your stomach pretty bad after that? I never got to ask you if it hurt. Did it?"

Arthur shifted again, straightening out his neck to face away from Alfred's inquisitive face, although he only smiled in response to what he'd come to understand was Arthur being shy.

"_Yes, it hurt. But only for a short time. I heal quickly, remember?"_

It was still weird to hear Arthur respond to him, after all the time they'd spent communicating silently. It wasn't really communicating though, since Alfred didn't really hear his voice, but only a kind of response in his mind. It only ever worked when they touched too, making it possible only when they were close.

"Yeah, I remember, you lucky bastard. You don't need to brag about it." It was meant to be a joke, but as soon as he said it he knew how Arthur would react.

"_Lucky? You have no idea about the true meaning of luck then, lad."_

Alfred sighed, frustrated by his own clumsiness.

"Hey, I didn't mean it like that. I'm just- I'm sorry, Arthur."

There was no response from the other, but going by Arthur's shifting to lie with his face in the direction of Alfred he was forgiven. Alfred could see those magnificent green eyes glowing in the dark, just as captivating as the first time they met.

"Hey, Arthur?"

A loud, irritated sigh was heard again and Alfred smiled just as fondly as before; Arthur was adorable in his grumpiness.

"Do you remember what you look like? I mean, in your human form? What did you look like before the curse?"

"_I…" _There was a long silence. "_I honestly don't remember. I guess, after all these years of not being human, I've forgotten who I used to be."_

Alfred waited a little longer in case Arthur chose to speak up again. He did that sometimes, and in those moments it was important to not interrupt him.

When the silence had dragged on for long enough, he spoke again.

"I bet you had green eyes. I get the feeling that you don't look too different now from then."

He would've had a prominent brow as well, considering the expressive looks he could pull off the way he was now. Not many non-human beings could pull off such an impressive look of pure bewilderment.

There was also the fact that Arthur was definitely male. In his mind Alfred had already started to attempt to create a picture of how Arthur would've looked like. He wondered what kind of body-build he would've had; was he scrawny, well-built, or fat? Was he tall; was he short? Did he have brown hair or was he blonde? There were so many possibilities and no certain answers. The only one who could've had them didn't remember.

Alfred was so absorbed in his thinking about the many ways Arthur could possibly look like that he just about jumped out of his skin when Arthur spoke again.

"_Why would you care about what I looked like?"_

Having spent many nights in the other's company, Alfred liked to believe he knew him quite well, and knew the difference between Arthur asking his opinion and Arthur asking because he was insecure. This time it was the latter.

"Of course, I don't care what you look like, Artie. I would still think you were the most amazing human-turned-dragon turned-human-again to ever live in this world! It doesn't matter what you look like; I just like you for being you."

A deep sigh was heard again, but this time it wasn't out of frustration about a mere human's inability to keep quiet when the human within a dragon's body wanted to sleep. It was a sigh of relief; relief born out of some simple words spoken by the man even a centuries-old dragon couldn't help but love.

"_You git. I'm the only human-turned-dragon-by-the-curse-of-a-vengeful-ghost that have ever even existed. But I understand what you mean to say and I'm glad that you feel that way. Even though we're not even close to the point where we'll know for sure."_

"Don't you worry about that, Arthur! If that ghost could turn you _into_ a dragon, I'm sure there's a way to turn you back again!" Alfred grinned in the usual way, the way he did when he wanted to cheer up the old dragon.

Alfred had had no idea what kind of things he would do when he defended a bunch of orphans against the castle guard and was forced to run away from the capitol, but forming a friendship with a centuries old dragon wasn't at all what he'd thought.

His mother had always told him that he would grow up to be something in this world, having been born with the strength of giants. When she died, all Alfred could do to survive was to hire himself out to the townspeople, and soon enough even the royal castle. It was a way of surviving, but people were dishonest and didn't give him enough to do much else. When he'd seen those children faced with certain death for the food they'd stolen, he'd snapped and took the blame. Running away had been the only solution.

And here he was, on his way to help an old sorcerer escape his prison. The first time they'd met, they'd fought for two whole days, with Alfred as the final victor. He'd been ecstatic at winning over a dragon; that is, until he discovered the dragon was chained to the mountain-top with no means to escape. He'd freed the red beast in a minute with his incredible strength, and as a pay for the debt the dragon owed him, he'd asked to join him. They'd been together ever since, becoming close friends after only a short time.

Hoping he didn't wake the dragon, Alfred spoke up again.

"When we do change you back again, Arthur, we will be together forever. I promise. I don't know how, but it feels like destiny. A fierce dragon and a man with the strength of giants; together we could save the world. Wouldn't that be something." Staring wistfully at the gleam in the ceiling, created by Arthur's green eyes, Alfred leaned against the dragon's warm side.

"_Saving the world? If that's what you want, Alfred, then that's what we'll do."_

Falling into a slumber by Arthur's warmth, Alfred listened to the dragon's content humming, dreaming of a young boy with a magic wand, his blonde hair ruffled by the wind.


	21. October 21st

**ARTIST: april-cherie-sprinkles (Art is availeble on the ****_365daysofusuk_**** tumblr)**

**AUTHOR: potatobastard**

**21st of October, 2014**

Alfred first saw Arthur in a bar downtown a month ago and had asked him if he wanted a drink. Brow raised, the other declined and turned away. Since then, Alfred had only seen him briefly at the front of the lecture hall.

Now, Alfred, browsing the shelves of the bookstore, paused at the flicker of lights overhead and stepped aside for a weary employee to start collecting books left at the ends of the shelves. Near the front, the cashier started to punch numbers into the register while a co-worker vacuumed the entryway. The staccato beat of raindrops drummed a soothing silence inside, while a sheet of water slathered the pavement in reflections of city lights as the evening settled into night.

"Closing soon, huh?" Alfred asked. He shook his head as he scanned a row of books one last time.

The employee only grunted, so Alfred squeezed past and started weaving his way through a maze of shelves toward the exit. He hesitated, finding himself peeking over a shelf into the fantasy aisle, having caught a glimpse of a figure through a gap in the books.

"Oh hey, it's you."

The other looked up with a little frown, raised that same brow, and glanced back down again. "Can't you see I'm trying to read?"

Alfred ducked out of view only to reemerge at the end of the aisle. "The shop's closing soon is all. What's your name?"

"Arthur." Engrossed as he was, he did not look up a second time.

Alfred stepped a little closer. "Well, I'm Alfred. We're in the same biology class."

"The hell would I know that? There are 100 other students crammed into that same lecture hall."

"And yet you're the one I notice," Alfred said, beaming. His smile did not fall even when Arthur only hummed in response.

He waited a beat.

"So, what are you reading?" Alfred asked. He'd tried to peer over Arthur's shoulder, but the other shrugged him off.

"It's called Nightmare's Wake," Arthur said, closing the book in his hands. Vivid eyes pierced Alfred's, but the irritability was gone, though the corners of his mouth still tugged downward. He gestured with one hand while he spoke. "Basically, this shifty character has learned to possess bodies, and he's using this ability to gain immortality, by jumping body to body for almost 300 years. And he's possessed a king most recently, but this kingdom and another are fixed in a bloody horrific war—and anyone's body who he finally leaves for another knows all of his secrets and can perform the possession ritual as well an—"

"Guys, seriously, you need to leave." That same employee jerked a thumb toward the door. "We're basically closed. Buy whatever you have, but get out of here." He trudged off with a long suffering sigh.

Arthur's eyes dulled and, lips pursed, he glanced at the top of the page, mumbling a number to himself as he replaced the book on the shelf.

Alfred stilled his hand. "Been working on that one for a while?"

"I come here a couple times a week," Arthur said. His eyes traced down to where Alfred's fingertips ghosted over his wrist. He did not move. "Spent most my money on textbooks, and god knows they aren't good reading."

"Hey, um, I'll buy it for you," Alfred said. "So you can read at home."

Arthur jerked his hand away. "You absolutely will not!"

Alfred plucked it from the shelf. "I absolutely will."

He headed toward the register, easily outpacing the other, bought the book, and placed it firmly in Arthur's hands.

"There."

Mumbling at the floor, Arthur scratched at messy hair. His cheeks burned wildly red. He kicked at Alfred's shoe with a little scowl. "Thanks, then." He swallowed and glanced over at the door, tucking the book firmly to his chest, even though the rain had weakened into little more than a drizzle.

The other only grinned and turned to leave.

Arthur lurched forward to catch the door as it swished shut behind him, squeezing through to join him. "So, biology was it, then?"


	22. October 22nd

**AUTHOR: the-literalist**

**22nd of October, 2014 - Captured**

If pressured to be honest, this was not how Alfred had pictured his demise would eminently transpire. He could envision tomorrow's newspaper headlines around the world, mourning the loss of their savior and hero, Eagle of Freedom (Alfred's superhero name). He was currently bounded in the middle of some sort of underground room, with stadium-like seating containing countless villains he had fought over the years. Even though he hailed from America, his duty rested with protecting ALL countries from harm, and coincidentally, there was at least one major villain from each country which meant the Eagle of Freedom had spent a lot of his time saving people all over the world.

He struggled once again with the heavy cuffs around his wrists and ankles, but the cuffs were made of the toughest minerals and materials that even the world's renowned superhero could not break free with his super strength or manage to fly away. He was in an upright position, his ankle cuffs shackled to the floor and his wrist cuffs suspended high into the ceiling; he hung his head in utter shame. This was the first time he had ever been captured by these villains, the only time he ever lost. In the end, it had been the notorious Bad Touch Trio that had captured him, consisting of 'Awesomest Evil' (some psycho with white hair and red eyes), 'The Tomato Crusader' (some weird always-happy Spanish guy), and 'French Assassin' (a not very modest French man).

Awesomest Evil was currently giving some type of proud victory speech to the surrounding villains and villainesses, claiming that "their time has come" and "now that the hero is out of the way, they'll band together to wreak havoc throughout the world" and blah blah blah. Alfred had stopped listening after a while, too caught up in his paranoia and despair. What would happen to all the innocent people of the world without their hero to rescue them?

The Eagle of Freedom glanced up to take in his surroundings one last time, it would be the last thing he saw anyway. His eyes made their way across all the faces of villains he had defeated during his many years as a superhero, he saw the Swiss guy who could quickly construct a deadly weapon from any type of material, he saw the crazy Hungarian lady that had tried to chop off his head using a frying pan, he saw the big and terrifying Russian man that could freeze anything he touched, and then his eyes landed is favorite villain, the 'English Gentleman'. Alfred managed a tentative smile as he looked over the British villain he had battled time and time again, the man had on his trademark black and green suit, slim fitting in all the right places. The English Gentleman was a surly, traditional, dangerous man, possessing the power to control objects with his mind. He was Alfred's favorite villain because even though he used his powers to commit crimes, he never really tried to hurt anyone, in fact, it seemed that he spent more time playfully bantering with Alfred than he did actually causing damage.

Looking at the English Gentleman currently, Alfred realized he actually wanted to know more about his favorite villain. What did he like to do for fun? What made him become a villain in the first place? What was his real name? Alfred grew even more melancholy with these thoughts because he knew he would never get the chance to find out. The Bad Touch Trio made it perfectly clear he would be disposed of in front of the entire group of villains, and not surprisingly, they were all thrilled to see the world's hero come to a violent and permanent end.

Alfred tuned back into the villain's speech, where Awesomest Evil was still giving his exceedingly long oration.

"Aaaand finally! The moment you've all been waiting for….", Awesomest Evil supplied, pointing his finger at Alfred, "We will destroy this idiotic nuisance, Eagle of Freedom, once and for all!" Alfred raised his head high to face his last few moments with dignity.

Awesomest Evil then turned to the others. "Tomato Crusader and French Assassin! Help me out over here!" With that, they leveled the death machine so that it was facing Alfred. All the villains cheered and screamed their support.

"Say adios, amigo!" The Tomato Crusader said gleefully, beginning to pull down the giant lever. Alfred's eyes grew misty as he took his final breath…

All of a sudden, every light in the room blew out, causing sparks and sizzles to wash over the crowd of villains. Everyone began panicking with confusion, including Alfred. That's when Alfred felt the cuffs securing him being broken free and a hand grab a hold of his arm to pull him away from the room at an alarming speed.

As Alfred ran with the mystery person who was guiding him out of the darkness, he heard the French Assassin screeching for someone to get the lights back on, and to make sure the Eagle of Freedom had not escaped. Too late, Alfred thought, as him and his savior quickly migrated through the maze of corridors until they safely made it out of the underground villain hideout.

In the light of the outdoors, Alfred finally saw the face of his mysterious savior, and breathed an audible gasp. "You!" he proclaimed, taking in the sight of the English Gentleman, his cheeks puffed from their hasty retreat and his eyes narrowed with caution. "You saved me?" Alfred asked in awe.

"Well I couldn't just let them dispose of you in such a tasteless fashion. A villain's life would be dreadfully boring without a hero to fight," the English Gentleman began, eyes still glancing every which way to see if they were followed. Finally, he relaxed a bit and their eyes met. Alfred smiled the warmest smile he could muster.

"You're my hero, now."

The English Gentleman smiled back. Maybe being a hero wasn't so bad after all.


	23. October 23rd

**AUTHOR: demotif**

**23rd of October, 2014 **

Arthur tapped away at his keyboard, mindlessly adding bits of embellishment into the political science paper he probably should have finished hours ago. It wasn't that he didn't want to write up his thoughts on Marxist ideologies, of course (though he wouldn't describe the process as his ideal way of spending a Saturday afternoon). No, rather, his progress had been hindered thus far by the constant stream of texts coming in from one Alfred Jones, who apparently was spending his Saturday exploring a city he'd travelled to with his "football" team. Last he heard, Alfred and his mates had been romping around some sort of a field museum in the few hours they had left before their evening match.

It was only a few more moments before a small "ping!" came from Arthur's mobile and he quickly abandoned his essay and opened his latest message:

_"Omg dude we just found a giant sloth"_

Followed quickly by:

_"Pics coming soon"_

Arthur's eyebrow quirked up and he felt himself smirk softly. He hadn't imagined Alfred as the type to get so excited by a museum. Needless to say, Arthur's curiosity had been piqued. He carefully replied, "_I await them with baited breath."_

After another minute of adding more rubbish into his essay another message came, this time with a picture attached with the caption, "_Look at the size of this guy! Friggin crazy" _And, indeed, the skeleton was quite large. Alfred and a few others Arthur vaguely recognized had squeezed into the corner of the picture, looking rather small in comparison to the monstrous sloth-creature beside them.

Arthur's attention quickly left the giant skeleton and rested upon Alfred's stupid grin and the arms he had wrapped around the shoulders of the young men beside him. In spite of himself, Arthur felt himself frown, and he bit down on his lip to make it stop. He most certainly did not feel small stabs of jealousy poking at his innards whenever he received pictures like this, with Alfred draped all over people these people who got to spend so much time with him while Arthur was cooped up in his student flat hundreds of miles away writing a shitty paper. No. That would be childish, and Arthur Kirkland was never "childish."

Leaving that idiotic train of thought behind, Arthur turned back to his conversation with Alfred and replied, _"Yes, crazy indeed." _With a moment's pause and a small chuckle, Arthur sent another message, saying, _"It reminds me of you."_

He didn't even bother turning back to his paper now. Instead, he kept his eyes on the screen, waiting for just a bit longer than usual before seeing a message saying, _"I can't see that comparison going well"_

With a laugh, Arthur quickly wrote and sent, _"You'd be right about that."_

A few moments passed, and then Alfred messaged:

_"I wish I could see you saying that in person"_

_"You're just smirking at all this aren't you?"_

Arthur smiled knowingly and tapped out his reply.

_"Did you even need to ask?"_

Moments later:

_"Not really :D"_

Arthur smiled idiotically down at those little words. This boy was going to be the end of him.

He wasn't sure if he should start a new line of the conversation or wait for Alfred to start going off about something else, but before he got the chance to make a decision a new message from Al appeared: _"Hang on a sec"_

Arthur let out an impatient sigh, twirled his mobile around in his hand for a minute, and then decided that the smart thing to do would be to go back to working on his paper. Granted, it was more than a bit difficult to focus on the task at hand when most of Arthur's mental energy was spent on listening for that stupid "ping!" that would put his mind at rest. Nevertheless, he was able to get in a good few sentences before the next message came, this one looking, strangely, quite wordy at first glance.

_"Hello Alfred's boyfriend, this is Antonio letting you know that Al got us kicked out of the exhibit because he wouldn't stop texting so we confiscated his phone, lo siento"_

There was just a beat of silence before Arthur let out a deep laugh and scoffed at Alfred's adorable yet frustrating mindlessness. Was he surprised by this turn of events? No, no he was not. It was almost charming to think that Alfred had wanted to keep up their conversation so much that he would blatantly disregard museum policy. Almost.

Still, Arthur felt a bit guilty about having a hand in getting Alfred's mates kicked out of the museum as well. He had no idea who this Antonio person was, but Arthur figured the poor boy deserved a reply:

_"Good on you lad, I'm sure he deserved it."_

Arthur waited for a little while to see if he might get a reply, and sure enough one soon came:

_"You are much more british than I expected"_

_"Also I should probably stop texting you as it seems to visibly upset Mr. Jones, although his cheeks are a delightful shade of red atm"_

For what felt like the tenth time in as many minutes, Arthur let out a hearty laugh at the news of this turn of events. The thought of a jealous, red-faced Alfred was admittedly tantalizing. He quickly replied, _"No, you should definitely send me updates on this apparent spiral into madness, it sounds entertaining."_

Okay, maybe Arthur Kirkland could sometimes be a bit childish.


	24. October 24th

**ARTIST: theawesomehero (Art is available on the **_**365daysofusuk**_** tumblr)**

**AUTHOR: lilymayflower**

**24th of October, 2014 - Little Child**

Arthur had to wonder. Never in his long life as a vampire would have ever thought that he would be a parental figure of some sort. He watched a small blond haired child running throughout the backyard from the window of his home.

Of course, he never thought he would buy a house that was haunted by a child spirit either, but that was just a small detail he guessed.

He watched for a few moments more before he had to move away from the glaring sun, he closed the drapes, making the bedroom go dim, as the sun tried it's hardest to reach him. Retreating back into his room, the young vampire sat on his bed, wanting to take this chance to get some sleep since the child was at peace for a while.

The child he cared for, who went by the name of Alfred, had died a few years ago due to unknown causes; well, mostly unknown as only Alfred knew what had happened to him, and he never wants to talk about it. Arthur could only guess, as he didn't find it necessary to force the boy to talk about it.

While yes he did love caring for the ghost child, it wasn't as easy as it sounded. The boy was still a handful like most children tended to be. Only difference was that you couldn't exactly tell a ghost to go to bed at night or stick misbehaving ones in corners.

Arthur sighed and laid back on his bed, closing his jaded green eyes. The peacefulness of the house combined with the ever present feeling of the late afternoon sun being up, lured Arthur into sleep.

Outside, little Alfred marveled at his new body that Arthur had given him. He could feel the grass beneath his bare feet again, the warmth of the sun shining down on his skin, the way the cool breeze felt against his heated skin.

To put it simply, it was amazing. It had taken him a while to get use to a body that was solid, but after those first few minutes, he was a normal little eight year old boy again. Although he was sadden at the thought of having to return to being a ghost again after sunset, he was just happy to be able to play in the sun again.

He had wonder through the backyard, playing with anything and everything or talking to each of the roses in the garden Arthur grew when he had first came to live in the house. Alfred at this moment was the happiest child as he played and smiled.

As the day wore on however, Alfred became increasingly sluggish in his movement; finally, he decided that it was time to go back into the house. He went upstairs and without knocking, went into Arthur's room.

Slowly, the child walked up to the bed and saw that the vampire was sleeping. Alfred knew that Arthur hated to be woken up, no matter what time of day it was, but he would be mostly upset if it was before the sun went down. As quietly as he could, Alfred crawled up on the bed, he watched for a moment, making sure that the other was still sleep before he made any more movements.

Once he was sure that the other was still out, Alfred carefully laid down next to him, and he turned around so his back was facing the other and closed his eyes. Arthur's bed was very comfortable, Alfred decided as he felt himself being lulled to sleep since it was so peaceful and because he was so tired.

He jolted however when he felt arms wrap around him, at first he struggled, but soon calmed down once he heard a familiar chuckle behind him. Looking back, the boy saw eye to eye with darken green eyes.

"I see someone made themselves comfortable in my bed, hmm?" Arthur said with a smile, watching Alfred's sapphire like eyes grew wide.

"I-I, um." Alfred wiggled about in the other grip, unsure of what to do. But before he could do anything, Arthur reached over and pulled a light and soft blanket over the both of them.

"I suppose I can let this slide, just this once. Now lie down and close your eyes." Arthur gently placed a quick kiss on the boy's forehead and laid his head back down, closing his own eyes.

Alfred was a bit confused, but shrugged it off; he scooted closer to Arthur and cuddled up against him more, closing his eyes again with a contented sigh. Arthur wasn't giving off any body heat, but the child didn't mind, he just found comfort that the other was there with him.

The two stayed this way until Alfred fell asleep, while Arthur, feeling more awake as the sun slowly descended watched over the little child. It was still a mystery to him as to why Alfred liked him, but he found that it made him happy that the boy found delight in his company.

A small smile crept up on Arthur face; yes it made him very happy that he could bring the ghost child some delight in his little afterlife.


	25. October 25th

**AUTHOR: last-haven**

**25th of October, 2014 - The Model**

Sometimes life throws you a curveball, sometimes a fastball. But worst of all is when it aims low; Alice knew that blow well. When she was young, she got glasses so thick the lenses strained the frames just trying to contain them. When she was a teenager, she got pimples from her hairline to her butt. When Alice was twenty five, she fell in love with a girl in a photo.

It happened when Sakura came to her with her portfolio; Alice had only put out an ad for photographers in the newspaper the day before, but in strolled Sakura, neat and ready for an interview. Her boss had wanted a bright young photographer for their magazine and Sakura fit the bill. The photos she brought in were beautiful, haunting, and well put together. Too good for their magazine, Alice thought—her bosses wouldn't pay anywhere near their worth. She was trying to think of a delicate way to break that to Sakura when she flipped the page.

There was a large glossy photo of a woman that took Alice's breath away. The shot was of the woman leaning in a diner's booth, staring out the window, chin in hand. A slight smile played on her lips, but her eyes were bright. It was the impetuous look of an adventurer who was only taking a small pit stop on her long journey. Her eyes were bright grey blue behind long fair lashes; her hair was wheat gold and she wore her farmer's tan like a badge of pride.

This sun kissed blonde stunned her to silence while beside her a coworker jabbered on through the interview. Regretfully, Alice forced her eyes to look at the next photo, straining to pull her gaze away from the beauty. Alice nearly shouted hallelujah when she realized the next photo was also of the same woman. She was outside now, hunkered down next to a vintage motorcycle. She gazed up with a defiantly daring smirk, her eyes now steel as she stared the camera down. The camera was closer now; Alice could count the freckles on the woman's ample breasts and felt her mouth water.

She hired Sakura on the spot, ignoring her coworker's confusion as she asked Sakura when she could start.

She didn't get to talk to Sakura for quite some time—their separate divisions meant that it took months before Alice could pin the photographer down long enough to ask. In the meantime, she wrote Sakura's web address down and went through her online portfolio.

"I'm not being creepy," she reassured herself as she clicked through pages of photos. "I'm just curious."

After nearly half an hour of despair, she found one of the photos of her mystery woman. Checking the description, she groaned to see that Sakura hadn't listed the model's name, but she found something almost as good. Sakura, bless her tidy heart, had tagged her photo with a keyword that lead to a special branch of the archive just for people's portraits. Alice punched the air with a victory shout when her darling's face appeared in many more photos.

"It's not creepy," Alice repeated as her neighbor yelled at her through the wall to keep it down. She printed off one (dozen) and promised herself that she was just doing it to bring in to Sakura, so she would know who Alice meant when she asked who her model was. And if she made one of them her phone's background, well, that was just to help remind her to ask Sakura.

Four weeks later, life took another low swing. When Alice got in to work, a coworker teasingly told her that Sakura was in. Alice tossed her purse at her desk and hurried to find the photographer. Someone told her that she was in their boss's office, talking about something. Grinning down at her phone, she thought eagerly _I'm nearly onto you, lovely._

Just as she neared the door to her boss's office, a thought stopped her dead. _Shite. I forgot the photo!_ Would it be worth it to run back to her desk to try and find one of her copies and risk missing Sakura all together, or did she dare awkwardly stumble through a conversation that Sakura might not have a clue what she was getting at, therefore just creeping Sakura out to the point she wouldn't tell her?

No, she decided; she wasn't going to go through another month of useless pining for a woman who didn't even know she existed. She strode forward—she was going to get some answers, even if she did turn her coworker off for life.

When she got near the office, she turned to her boss's secretary. Carmen grinned up at her and shrugged when Alice asked after Sakura. "You just missed her."

Alice's stomach tied itself into one lovely knot as Carmen yammered on about the photographer having to get something from her office. Disappointed, Alice drifted back to the elevator, ignoring everything as she stepped in, even when another person ducked in before the doors shut.

She raised her phone and looked at her background, admiring the photo to try and cheer herself up. Well, she blew it today, but maybe some other time. She sighed to herself.

"Oh, that's a really good shot," a voice interrupted her thoughts as a tanned hand gripped her wrist holding the phone and dragged her to it. "That's one of Sakura's, isn't it?"

Before Alice could shriek at the person to let go, she looked up and found herself entranced by a pair of familiar grey blue eyes and cocky smile.

"So," her mystery beauty said, "I take it you're a fan?"

Alice nearly died on the spot.

Five minutes later, Alice stumbled out of the elevator, clothes rumpled and glasses askew with a fresh hickey on her neck. She grinned down at her phone and the brand new contact she had inside.


	26. October 26th

**AUTHOR: kelbora**

**26th of October, 2014 - It Doesn't Have to Be**

January 10th, 1946. It was the day of the first General Assembly; a conference for the peace seeking states of the world to gather together and discuss issues of the times and look toward securing the future. That was the day, in London, that one such solution was proposed and accepted in vigor between the two leaders of Great Britain and the United States of America: the '_special relationship_' between them should be solidified and their union made resolute before the world.

The announcement would be made before the first ever meeting of the United Nations that coming October, which was the reason Britain's Prime Minister had cleared Arthur's schedule and booked a flight for him to New York not even a week after the assembly's conclusion.

His orders? Get busy.

All of this had lead to the current awkward situation. Arthur was sitting with his arms and legs crossed on a couch in a high-rise luxury apartment overlooking Long Island. His expression was tight and mute while…his _companion_ sitting parallel to him looked ready to have a bladder-rupturing episode.

The two had been in this tense state since Alfred had retrieved Arthur from the airport earlier that afternoon. The only real change had been on the drive to the apartment, which had been a jittery one-sided conversation on Alfred's part until Arthur told him that if he heard about the Detroit Lions and their so-called "football" one more time he was changing his national animal and beating Alfred to death with the first discarded effigy he found.

Needless to say, this did not set the mood for what they were supposed to be doing.

His complexion flushed, his leg bouncing up and down like it was trying to run away from him, and his hands constantly going from tightly linked together to grabbing at every article of clothing he wore, Alfred finally broke the silence – and sadly his voice.

"Do you –" he squawked, stopping to clear his throat so he didn't sound so much like a pubescent school boy pleading with his balls to drop so he could ask the school cheerleading captain out on a date. "D-do you want…something to eat?"

Arthur's expression never changed and he didn't move. "No, thank you. I'm feeling a tad nauseous for that."

"Oh!" Alfred piped up, trying to draw strength from the possibility of a task. "I have some antacid for that!"

Arthur just stared at him and after a while, Alfred seemed to get the point and deflated back into nervous misery.

"Um. Do you…want help unpacking?"

"No." He said flatly then sighed and decided to stop being too much of a prick; after all, this wasn't Alfred's fault. "No, thank you."

The American gave a bit of a smile, but still looked like he'd eaten something equivocal to a gastrointestinal explosive device and kept squirming all over his seat.

_Oh, for God's sake_.

"I'm rather tired so, if we could just make this quick – "

"Right!" Alfred suddenly cut him off (a little too loudly, Arthur might add) and bounced off the couch like one of the springs had shot up his ass. "You've had a long flight and are probably ready to drop dead – "

More than Alfred knew.

"So, I'll just go take a shower and you can do…uh….whatever it is…you…do before bed."

Again, all Arthur could do was give him a look, as Alfred seemed to flush cherry red from head to toe (Arthur thought Nantucket might have glinted crimson) and darted off to the bathroom.

By the time Alfred returned from the longest shower in history, Arthur had already tucked himself into the only bed in the room and completely obscured himself with the comforter. He could sense Alfred approaching the bed with uncertainty (eventually dashing out of the room for a self-pep talk before returning) before working up the courage to crawl beneath the covers and inelegantly scoot just an arm's length away from him.

Arthur kept his back to Alfred, as the man frustratingly continued to wrestle with indecision. When Arthur could take it no more, he rolled over and yanked a very startled Alfred to him.

"If you're going to do it, then do it. Acting like a virgin husband on his wedding night is only dragging this ridiculous burden out and irritating me," he hissed and stared the wide-eyed blond down. "Get this over with or get out."

Alfred looked cornered and began trembling. Perhaps it should have invoked some kind of sympathy but Arthur just didn't have the patience for it. It wasn't until Alfred swallowed and finally spoke that he felt something other than insurmountable annoyance.

"But that's what I am right now. I've never done this before and I never wanted it to happen this way…"

The moment seemed paused for Arthur as the words sunk in, making his hard expression soften a little in lieu of this most certainly impossible information. Arthur had known Alfred nearly the man's entire life and knew when he was lying; but, much to his distress, he couldn't find any falsehood now. There wasn't a single tell to be had and the raw anguish on Alfred's face was undeniable.

Alfred was telling the truth.

"You've never once done this…with anyone?"

Alfred flushed and looked down, "I know it's something most of you older guys see as '_just business_' but…I see it as something special." Knowing Arthur was likely going to judge him on it, Alfred seemed to find the will to defend himself and bit out. "I don't care how human that sounds, it's what I wanted and still do."

In the silence that followed, Alfred cautiously lifted his eyes and found Arthur still appearing confounded in the wake of this revelation. As this was likely to be his only opportunity to get it off his chest, Alfred dropped all of his characteristic self-assuredness and pleaded, "This doesn't have to be tonight, right? …Please?"

Arthur still couldn't find his words and woodenly nodded, watching Alfred's face light up with gratitude as he thanked and hugged him tightly. The younger continued holding him until, eventually, he fell asleep with his limbs tangled in his companion's.

Rest did not come so easily for Arthur, who remained awake and staring at the crown of golden hair brushing his face. From the moment his Prime Minister's solution for consummating the special relationship had been given to him until Alfred's confession, Arthur realized he truly had been bitterly treating this as just another business venture. He had only taken into account his own ire over being bartered like some courtesan to an infuriating idiot like Alfred F. Jones, and not that Alfred would be feeling incredible distress of his own. This hadn't been the first time Arthur had been tasked with solidifying an alliance by these means…but Alfred…

He found himself squeezing Alfred a little tighter and resting his cheek atop the other's head. They had time to do this right and would, regardless of the pressure they would both be enduring from the top. This was suppose to be a special relationship after all…and he was determined that, for both of their sakes, it would be.


	27. October 27th

**AUTHOR: seecarrun**

**27th of October, 2014 - Pumpkin Carving**

When America invited England over for a bit of pre-Halloween pumpkin carving, England wasn't about to say no.

First of all, England had started this whole vegetable carving business with turnips, which were, in his humble opinion, much more difficult to carve then a sodding pumpkin. A point which he planned to remind America of persistently.

Secondly, the if the twat was stupid enough to let England get a sneak peak of his Halloween scare-fest plans, than so be it, he certainly wasn't going to complain.

And thirdly- there was no thirdly. There was absolutely no other reason England would want to spend a beautiful, crisp, autumn evening with that twit, no-sirree.

"Hey there, dude!" America called from his front porch swing as England made his way through the front gate. He was wrapped up in an over-sized, dark green jumper, which didn't make him look at all adorable, and was holding a steaming mug of something in the hand that wasn't waving excitedly. "Glad you could make it!"

England stepped up onto the front porch, stepping through the door when America held it open for him. "Wouldn't miss it for the world," he replied sarcastically. Mainly so America couldn't tell that he, you know, _actually_ wouldn't miss it for the world, and slipped his scarf onto the coat rack.

America laughed, never one to take one of England's insults seriously, the brat, and ushered him into the kitchen. He noted, not-so-surprisingly, that synthetic cobwebs, pumpkins, and plastic bats were draped over every available surface on the house.

"So, I have some leftover frozen pizza and apple cider if ya want some! I figured you might want something eatable for a change."

England rolled his eyes, but accepted a small mug of apple cider anyway, "Because I'm a gentleman." America ate four more slices of pizza.

Finally, when he had finished stuffing his face, America directed him to the kitchen table, which he has already covered with a layer of newspaper.

He came came around the corner a moment later, carrying two very large pumpkins, which he unceremoniously dropped onto the table.

"Careful with those, you git!" England snapped, righting the one closest to him before it rolled off the table.

America waved him off. "American pumpkins are _tough_," he bragged. "Do you want that one?"

England looked at the pumpkin he had rescued in comparison to the one closest to America and scoffed. While his was, on it's own unnecessarily large, the one near America was at least three times larger. "As if I have a choice. That thing is monstrous."

"I think they fit us!" America beamed, gesturing between himself and the pumpkin enthusiastically. "It's just like me!"

"Fat and probably full of harmful chemicals? I agree."

America puffed out his cheeks, pouting. "Cold, dude."

"I do my best," England said with a smirk. He picked up a bright orange carving knife from the table and wiggled it in America's face. "Shall we?"

America followed suit, picking up a knife near him as well. "My pumpkin's gonna scare the pants off your pumpkin." He smirked.

"You're on."

They worked somewhat diligently for the next half hour, the air full of the sound of sawing, squishing, and random insults. England couldn't help but steal a few glances America's way, enjoying, far more than he would ever admit, the determination on America's face while he worked.

It was almost a shame that his pumpkin was going to beat his so badly.

"Done!" America cried slamming down his knife on the table. "Woo! First!"

England scoffed, delicately adding the finishing touches onto his pumpkin. "The contest isn't who finishes first, you twit."

"Meh, whateves, still won."

Once England finished his work, the two sat opposite each other, their pumpkins at the ready.

"On three," America decided with a grin.

England nodded. "One."

"Two..."

"Three!"

They spun the pumpkins around, and England almost forgot to even look at America's pumpkin, so proud of himself and excited to hear America's surefire shriek of terror. But when none came, he spared a glance America's way.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS THAT?!"

America burst into laughter, holding his stomach as he gasped for breath. "Isn't it terrifying?!"

"It looks just like _me_, you arse!" England cried, but America was far too incapacitated to do anything more than nod as he laughed.

"I think the eyebrows are the scariest part, don't you?!"

"I'll show _you_ how scary I am!" England growled, picking up his pumpkin and stalking toward America, his eyes glinting murderously.

"No! Nononono!" America tried to argue between chuckles, but England was intent on smashing that pumpkin over the idiot's head, and he was going to do it. "Englaaad! Noooo! I'm sorry! C'mon! I didn't mean it! You know how handsome you are! It was just a joke!"

England internally tucked that little compliment away for now, and held the pumpkin above the young nation's head with a smirk. "Say your prayers, git."

"Nooooo!"

_SMASH_

Two hours later, as the two finally finished cleaning up the aftermath of their inevitable pumpkin gut fight, they collapsed on the couch together in a mixture of laughter and soreness from picking up so many pumpkin seeds and stringy pumpkin guts all over the kitchen.

"Well," England breathed, stretching his arms above his head, "thanks to your little stunt, we've destroyed our pumpkins. Brilliant."

"Looks like it," America agreed, picking one last pumpkin seed out of England's hair, causing England's heart to jump just a little at the gentle contact. "Guess we'll just have to carve more next weekend, huh?"

England glanced up at America's slightly blushing face and smiled softly in reply.

"I suppose so."


	28. October 28th

**AUTHOR: jojoandpicnic97**

**28th of October, 2014 - Magic Finals**

No matter how hard Alfred tried, magic was not his thing. He read and read and he studied until his eyes were rolling around in his head but whenever he tried to put concept into practice, not even a speck of magic _anything _worked. Frustrated, Alfred closed his _Magic for Dummies_ guide, slamming his head to the desk he was sitting at in his school's mostly empty library. Most children had read and mastered _Magic for Dummies_ by age eight while Alfred was still below that level. Most people, however, did not understand the concept behind the magic they practiced—even the teachers at the school shoved that to the side in favor of showing off and teaching kids to do spells so complex that the teachers themselves didn't grasp how they worked. Alfred did, though; even when it was made clear that magic was something he wasn't able to do, he read and read every book about how magic works and how each and every spell is made and practiced that the teachers never taught.

Fat lot that did him, though; nobody cared that he knew how the cool stuff worked at its simple chemical level—it only mattered if you could do the cool stuff at the most vain, shallow level. And yet, here he was, three days before his magic finals (they were always on the thirty-first of October as everyone's magic is strongest that day) and studying a baby's book so he wouldn't look like an absolute fool when everyone showed off their magic. No, no; this was a brand new school where no one knew about his inability to do magic and therefore, he couldn't be bullied. Alfred was sure that would change soon enough, though.

He had tried _everything. _After school help with the teacher (wherein Ms. Skullton burst into tears when she found that no matter how hard she tried, Alfred could not produce magic), practice with his brother (of whom had tried to teach him how to turn himself invisible, as it was Matthew's special talent, and promptly gave up because he already knew how bad Alfred was at magic), and even one of the most magic-talented tutors available (Mr. Batkey had set many fires in lieu of his frustration towards the magicless Alfred).

His parents had taken him to doctors and specialists to see what was wrong with their son, but the doctors were stumped as it became apparent that a magicless child has never been seen before. With their complete magical, doctorial opinion, they simply said (and Alfred is paraphrasing) "yah, it'll come, prob'ly, someday, if not, y'all's abnormal, dawg."

The door creaked open, which was odd for this time of day as most of the students had already vacated campus. Alfred lifted his eyes to observe the newcomer and quickly lowered them, hoping they hadn't noticed Alfred sitting at the desk with his clearly embarrassing children's starter book.

Alfred doubted that _Arthur Kirkland _had ever had the need to use _Magic for Dummies_. Alfred had learned of him on his first day at this new school and how Arthur was apparently a prodigy at magic; they said he performed adult-level magic when he was just ten years-old. And Alfred was sure he had some sort of inferiority-complex because he also harbored a massive crush on the magical prodigy.

Much to Alfred's displeasure (and excitement), Arthur sat across the table and greeted with a "hullo, Alfred" as a book flew off the shelf and right in front of him.

_Holy shit, Arthur Kirkland knows my name! _"Uh, hi," Alfred mumbled, playing it cool. "What'cha got there?"

"Oh, just a book full of the spells we've to memorize and preform for Ms. Skulton's class; finals are just dreadful, don't you agree?" He nodded as Arthur glanced at him. "And what do you have there, Alfred? '_Magic for Dummies_'?" Arthur smiled, though it was kind. "Finals stressing you out so much you've had to return to the basics, huh? Sometimes I feel like that, too," he snickered, returning to his book.

"Y-yeah," Alfred chuckled nervously. _Abort, abort, _his mind screamed at him. "Well, it was nice talking to ya, Arthur, but I've gotta go…" He stood, grabbing his horrible book and placing it into his backpack. "I'll, uh, see you tomorrow!" Alfred smiled big at Arthur who just blinked.

"Oh, okay," Arthur said, softly, watching as Alfred turned and walked to the door. "Ah, Alfred!" Alfred stopped and turned, staring inquisitively at Arthur. The magical prodigy pinked. "Um, if it's not too much trouble… I was thinking that maybe we could study and practice for finals and maybe go out for tea afterwards, ah, tomorrow, maybe?" He looked at Alfred hopefully.

Alfred blushed. _Is _the _Arthur Kirkland asking me out on a date? _"Huh? Oh—I mean, yeah, I—that sounds great." He smiled at Arthur and Arthur smiled softly back.

"Tomorrow?" Alfred nodded, and, with a salute good-bye, headed out the door and it was only until he was halfway home when he realized:

_Wait… how will I explain to Arthur I can't use magic?_


	29. October 29th

**AUTHOR: lacie-senpai**

**29th of October, 2014**

"THIS IS WAR!" A loud abrupt shout spread through the air of the town. A fairly tall and built sunny blond male had his fist raised almost in victory only, it was a war declaration. "Ve~ Your majesty! Spades has just declared war on us! What do we do?!" A frantic brunette man clad in red waving around a flag just as red with hearts on ran around a taller, extremely strict looking blonde. The strict blonde ignored the brunette and nodded to the other, "ja, very well. Meet us at the battle field then tonight at ten do NOT be late" soon that he turned around and walked away.

The other blond sank against the city fountain. "Oh crap, Artie is going to kill me! This is the fourth war this WEEK that I've started!". The blonde's name was Alfred, he ran the Spades district as the King alongside his irritable Queen Arthur, and his loyal Jack Yao. The town Vedike was a unique one, no one could enter the town unless they were a citizen, but of course all citizens could leave whenever they wanted as long as they come back.

Vedike used to be a land, with four Kingdoms that fought constantly for power, resources, more land, etc. Over time as the outside world changed, Vedike itself changed. It slowly became more modernized to fit into the current day. Vedike was now an "average" Town to any normal person, the four kingdoms had been transformed into town "districts". The only part that wasn't part of one of the districts was the very heart of Vedike.

As such war was much more difficult to deal with, however the four kingdoms found a rather nice substitute for it. This substitute made sure no ever REALLY died, though that wasn't possible for any of the higher citizens like numbers, or the royals. So, ever so terrified of his Queen, Alfred trudged back into the Spade district his head hung low. He walked past all his smiling citizens, who of course sighed and shook their heads knowing their king had done something their queen would not approve of. "Hey, how much do you want 'ta bet that King Alfred declared another war?" a teenage boy whispered to his girlfriend, as the King walked by.

After about twenty minutes of slow walking/sulking, King Alfred walked into the Spadian manor and went straight to where he knew his husband would be, The office. "H-hey Artie baby…. Uh, I need to tell ya' something" Alfred rubbed his neck nervously as he watched his husband just simply turn around from his hunched over position from looking over multiple documents with crossed arms. "You declared war again didn't you?" The Queen spoke in a "matter of fact" tone with his crisp British accent. Alfred laughed pretending he wasn't scared shitless of his Queen's actions, "haha…yeah". Arthur's eye twitched in annoyance "with whom?" Alfred stopped laughing and let his hands hang at his side head down like a kicked puppy, "Hearts".

Next thing he knew he was drop kicked by his Queen. "agh! Holy fuck!" Alfred writhed on the ground as his Queen brushed the imaginary dust off his clothes. "That's your punishment love, for being stupid" The Queen just snorted as he watched Alfred begin to whine. "A-Artie~! Help me up!" Alfred gave the Queen his most adorable puppy face, his Queen just turned around and exited the office. "I'll go get the war preparations ready, and you can go fuck yourself" was all Alfred heard from him. "damn.." Alfred mumbled as he got up perfectly fine, it had all been an act after all, maybe that was why Arthur didn't help him, he'd known it was an act.

Arthur grumbled angrily as he snapped on his gloves at the battlefield standing next to Alfred with his arms crossed. "I HATE you git" Alfred just shrugged and waited for the Hearts to arrive with their people. Alfred was wearing a simple Royal Blue T-shirt with an intricate spade pattern and a King's crown on top, paired with dark skinny Jeans, his Doc Martins, and his own pair of gloves. Arthur on the other hand was wearing a white dress shirt, button up of course with a navy blue vest on top. His tie was the same design as Alfred's shirt only with a Queen's crown on top, he also wore dark skinny jeans and his own boots made for war.

"Ve~! We're here!" The brunette from Earlier, the Jack of Hearts named Feliciano skipped next to his Queen and King. Feliciano wore a v-neck pink shirt with the heart insignia with a "J" on it in red wearing dark red capris and folded ankle boots without heels. Hearts Queen Kiku opted to stay the same and wore the same red/pink yukata he has worn for thousands of years. King Ludwig wore his typical red tank top with the same insignia that the other royals had and jeans.

"ja we are here, is everything ready? Seeing as Spades has declared war and hence is in charge of the preparations" Ludwig spoke with hints of annoyance, this being the fifth time this month at war with Spades….and losing every time. Arthur spoke directly after Ludwig "Of course Ludwig you should know better than to ask that." Arthurs words dripped with venom at Ludwig questioning his organizational skills. 'He gets mad, over his organizational skills being doubted…really?!' Alfred mused to himself about his Queen.

After about ten minutes of steely silence Alfred finally spoke up, "Alright dudes….LETS GET THIS WATER BALLOON FIGHT STARTED!" With a roar both sides sprang into action flinging Water balloons at each other. The royals from both Sides immediately went behind their armies and into their strategy rooms. "Alfred, we've beat these daft wankers five times this month. We need to focus on mistake that they constantly do" Arthur spoke quickly and efficiently to his...dumb King who was completely lost.

-meanwhile in the Hearts strategy room- Ludwig paced around the room while his Jack jumped around and his Queen looked over the map of the battlefield provided. "those morons in blue have beaten us EVERY time we have ever gone to war, as well as the five times this month!, we need to be the FIRST district to defeat them!" Ludwig barked out all his frustrations and anger at his best friend….and lover. "Ve~ Ludwig! I can go! Let me go! Let me go!" Feliciano jumped up and down in his seat excitedly.

Ludwig sighed, "no Feliciano, we ALWAYS let you go, and we LOSE because either Arthur, Alfred, or Yao hit you with the balloons" Feliciano pouted and began to tear up. "I-I want to be able to be a good Jack! Please Ludi? Please? For me?" Feli looked and gave Ludwig his most powerful puppy face, and with a sigh Ludwig said…."ja, ja, go on then…." Feli jumped up cheering and gave a quick peck to Ludwig's lips before skipping out the room and into the battlefield. Ludwig's eyes met Kiku's "go follow him, and get those Spadians!" Kiku bowed murmuring a small "yes" before running out after Feliciano.

-Spades- "Arthur! They have released Jack Feliciano!" Yao came dashing into the room with his war outfit on only to find King Alfred on top of his Queen….making out. "mmmm A-Alfred~….." Yao turned bright scarlet hearing his Queen moan out his King's name, "ARTHUR ARU! FELICIANO IS ON THE FIELD!" Arthur sat up bright red and pushed Alfred off of him. Alfred just grinned stupidly as his Queen snapped his gloves back on still blushing and walked out with Yao, planning to go and hit the poor Jack of Hearts….for the eight hundredth time.


	30. October 30th

**AUTHOR: seecarrun**

**30th of October, 2014 - Mischief Night**

She was touching his arm.

She was touching his arm and _giggling._

Arthur gripped his cup tightly in his hand. "Can we leave now?"

"_Non, mon cher!_" Francis sang. "The party has only begun! It is Halloween!"

"Lovely. And it's not Halloween yet." Determinedly, Arthur steeled his eyes on the unsightly mess of synthetic cobwebs just above Alfred's head. He was not watching that tart flirt with the American. Nope.

And he _certainly_ wasn't watching the way she bat her eyelashes and moved in closer to those muscular arms and flipped her hair and-

Nope. He was out of here.

"I need air," Arthur grumbled, slamming his cup onto the counter.

If Francis called after him, Arthur didn't hear, already out the door. He was immediately faced with the brisk, fall air, and cursed himself for not stopping to grab his coat before storming out. With a moan, he took a deep breath.

"You have no right to control who Alfred speaks with," he reminded himself sternly. "He is not yours. He has never been yours, and he never will be yours. Let it go."

Alfred's loud, joyous laughter rang from the house with absolute perfect fucking timing.

Fan-bloody-tastic.

Thankfully, a small bit of movement out of the corner of his eyes grabbed his attention. From the looks of it, three young, adolescent aged boys were lurking around the yard of the house across the street. Blinking in amusement, Arthur smiled.

It was Mischief Night, wasn't it? The night before Halloween, when kids would cause trouble and vandalize their grumpy old neighbors with rolls of toilet paper.

Well, it was a little juvenile, but Arthur needed to let off some steam, so why the hell not?

"Oi!" he called, slipping off the porch and crossing the street. "Toss us one of those!"

The boys, in pure twelve year old fashion, froze momentarily, dropped all of their toilet paper, and took off down the street. Arthur watched them, chuckled slightly, and picked a roll off the ground. He hadn't done anything of the sort since he was a stupid twelve year old himself, but well, what was university for but to act like a child again?

Winding his arm back, he let the roll fly.

* * *

><p>"Has anyone seen Arthur?" Alfred asked, weaving in an out of the crowds of people. "Hey, dude, have you seen Artie?"<p>

Kiku shrugged. "I have not. I apologize."

"Nah, it's cool," Alfred sighed. He wandered around for a little while, keeping his eye out for Arthur. Seriously, how hard was it to find a grown man dressed as Robin, Boy Wonder? (Alfred's own brilliant idea. He was Batman, of course.) Though, this was _Arthur _he was talking about. The man had a real knack for getting himself into trouble when he was drinking...

Shit, where was he?!

"Looking for Arthur, _mon cher?_" Francis asked, glancing away from the young lady he was talking to and sipping his glass.

Alfred nodded. "Have you seen him?"

He shrugged flippantly. "Last I saw, he was storming off outside. Where he is now, is questionable."

Alfred cursed. "Shit, okay, thanks bro!"

Arthur, outside, filled with an undeterminable about of alcohol, dressed as Robin. Here's hoping he wasn't too late.

Alfred skipped out the door, immediately tensing in the cold. Thankfully, it didn't take long to sport Arthur, as he was standing in the middle of the yard across the street (still in costume), in the midst of throwing a roll of toilet paper over the garage.

"Arthur!" he called, running over. "What are you doing?! How drunk are you right now?!"

Arthur glanced behind him and scoffed. "Oh shush, I'm not that drunk. Just...picking up where some brats left off."

"Wha-" Alfred watched in slight horror as Arthur tossed another roll. "Dude!"

"What?" Arthur bit out.

Alfred frowned. "You're gonna get in a lot of trouble if someone catches you. I mean, with your police record-"

"Oh?" Toss. "Than I wont let anyone catch me."

Which, of course, was when they heard the sirens.

"SCATTER!" Alfred cried, taking off.

Stumbling a little, Arthur took off in the other direction.

Alfred ran around the house until he reached a line of bushes along the chain-link fence in the backyard, and dove behind them, just as the flashing lights rounded the corner. His sigh of relief was cut short, however, by Arthur's footsteps pounding exactly in his direction.

"I told you to scatter!" Alfred snapped as Arthur crawled into the bush beside Alfred.

"Funny thing about that," Arthur snapped back. "Both directions happen to lead to the back yard."

They held their breath at the sound of a car door slamming, and watched with wide eyes as two police officers rounded the house with flashlights blazing.

"Probably the work of some punk kids," one of the officers mused, kicking at an abandoned roll.

The other shrugged. "Or some drunk kid from that party across the street."

They walked through the backyard, stopping every once in a while to check behind a bush or up into a tree. Alfred held his breath as they walked closer to them, though a sidelong glance at Arthur revealed he seemed unconcerned.

"Arthur, _get down,_" Alfred whispered.

Arthur glanced at him for a moment, but made no move to hide himself any further.

"Oh, ho ho, what do we have here?" one of the officers was saying, now standing right in front of the boys. "If it isn't little Artie Kirkland!"

Arthur stood up, but not before giving Alfred a small, sad smile and mouthing _stay down._ "'Ello officers, what seems to be the problem?"

"Isn't TPing a little juvenile for you, Kirkland?" one of the officers sniffed, taking out his notepad with an air of arrogance. Arthur crossed his arms.

"Aren't those trousers a little _small _for you, sir?"

His mouth fell open. "Why you little-"

Maybe it was because Arthur had looked so sad when he had found him. Maybe it was because Arthur was still dressed in that stupid Robin costume he had forced him into. Maybe it was because Arthur dressed as Robin, calling a cop fat was one of the most hilarious things he had ever seen. Maybe it was because of all sorts of things.

But it was probably because no matter what the cost, he would always do something stupid if it meant making Arthur smile.

So he hopped up and grinned at the cops like an idiot. "Hey fellas!"

And even though they both spent the night in jail, it was the best Halloween either of them could ever remember.

Because at least, they were together.


	31. October 31st

**AUTHOR: join-all-the-fandoms**

**31st of October, 2014 - Trick or Treat**

Alfred lifted the curtain of the living room window for the third time in ten minutes, and felt despair wash over him as a couple of kids- all dressed in their Halloween costumes and eagerly talking about how much candy they got- passed by his house. _He_ was supposed to be one of those kids dang it! If only his brother would stop talking on the phone and take him out trick or treating like he promised their parents he would, then it wouldn't be a problem. Sadly for Alfred, that wasn't the case.

"Matt!" Alfred shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth to make sure his voice would be loud enough for the other to hear from his bedroom. "Hurry up! All the good candy's gonna be gone soon!"

Matthew yelled back that he would be done in two minutes, and it only made Alfred roll his eyes. That would mean his brother wouldn't be done for another half hour at most and he wasn't going to wait that long. He had waited enough! He was ten years old, dang it! He was pretty sure he didn't need his brother following him around as he got candy. Matt wasn't even dressing up this year anyway -something about how he was too old for that now - so what was the point in him going?

With that in mind, Alfred decided he was perfectly capable of going trick-or-treating on his own. He adjusted his cowboy hat, grabbed his plastic gun and jack-o-lantern bucket, and carefully opened the door so it wouldn't make a sound. He looked upstairs one more time and heard his brother laughing at something his friend said. Alfred shrugged and stepped outside. Matt better not take any of his candy this year.

He felt proud of himself the second he stepped onto the sidewalk. The feeling went away when a few kids passed him, buckets half full with candy. He needed to get candy _fast_. Alfred looked around for any houses giving candy and noticed his next-door neighbor's lights were still on. That meant they were probably giving candy. He hurried over to the front door and knocked.

When no one answered, Alfred pouted and knocked again. He began stepping away after the third knock when the door opened just a bit for him to see a kid's head peek out. Alfred had never seen that shade of green for eyes, or eyebrows that thick before. He couldn't help but gape at the kid, who was looking at him wearily. "What do you want?" The boy asked, accent clear in his words. Alfred recognized it was English from all the TV he saw.

Alfred grinned and held his bucket out. "Trick or treat!" He said cheerfully.

The boy just stared at him.

"You're supposed to give me candy now." Alfred pouted, shaking his empty bucket for emphasis.

"…I don't have any." The boy deadpanned.

"What?" Alfred gasped. "Why? Wait, is it 'cause you're gonna trick-or-treat, too?"

The boy shook his head. "I was supposed to go with my brother, but he's…busy." He frowned and muttered something Alfred couldn't hear but had a feeling were curses.

"My brother's busy too." Alfred offered. "He keeps talking to his friend about something. So, I decided to go by myself!"

The boy blinked. "You can do that?"

"Well, yeah." Alfred shrugged. "I'm not doing anything bad, so it should be okay! Hey!" He stepped closer to the boy with a grin on his face. "Come with me! That way, I won't be by myself and you'll get to go trick-or-treating."

The boy said nothing at first. He only glanced back into the house. "…Okay, I'll get my bucket." Alfred fist-pumped and waited for the boy to come back outside. After a minute or so, he came back out - that was when Alfred noticed he was dressed as a pirate - with a bucket similar to his own and a worried look on his face. "I'm not so sure about this…"

"We'll be fine." Alfred grabbed the boy's hand and headed towards another house, where a couple was passing out candy. "What's your name, by the way? I'm Alfred, but you can call me Al if you want."

"Arthur." The boy, Arthur now, mumbled.

"Nice to meet you." Alfred smiled. It turned into a grin when he reached the couple's driveway. "You ready to get lots of candy, Artie?"

"Don't call me Artie." Arthur snapped, though a small smile was present on his face. "We better get a lot. My brothers will try taking it from me tomorrow, so we better get plenty so I can have some left."

"Matt does the same thing!" Alfred laughed. "Older brothers are mean, huh?"

This time Arthur laughed. "Yeah." He nudged Alfred to move forward. "Now, move or we won't get candy."

Alfred laughed again and led Arthur to the beginning of their trick-or-treating.

That night became a lot of things. It became the time when Alfred and Arthur managed to almost give both their brothers a heart attack from leaving their respective houses, the reason they were grounded for two weeks, and the time they both got so much candy it lasted them the rest of the year. Personally, Alfred likes to remember it as the night he met his best friend and husband, but that's just him.


End file.
